


Affinity

by InfiniteJediLove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 2019 Jinnobi Challenge, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Meeting, First Time, Happy Ending, Hurt!Obi-Wan, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon confront intolerance, Obi-Wan is somewhat socially awkward, Sexual Content, another fic set in a really cold cruel environment, bamf Obi-Wan., being very much in love and not knowing how to handle it, hurt!Qui-Gon, lots of feels, sleeping near someone and pretending helplessly not to be in love, somewhat slow build, the Jinnobi Challenge 2019, undercover Jedi mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-09 03:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20846723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteJediLove/pseuds/InfiniteJediLove
Summary: Barely a week after returning from an earlier mission, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn is chosen to investigate the disappearance of Senator K’atou of Livost. Joining him, as the assigned mission leader, is newly knighted Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi.Although expecting to endure hardship on the cold mountainous world of Livost, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are unprepared for the level of intolerance they face from the Livostens and the dangers awaiting them on Vhosh Mountain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is a fic I’ve been working on for a very long time and I am so happy that I was finally able to get it completed in time for the 2019 Jinnobi Challenge (for more info on the annual Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon challenge I run, go here: https://infinitejedilove.tumblr.com/post/187445851893/2019-jinnobi-challenge )! This is somewhat of an AU, as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are meeting for the first time as Jedi Knights and Ep. 1 didn’t happen, but overall, I tried to stick close to the Star Wars universe. Hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> Vhosh is pronounced: Vaw-sh  
Livost is pronounced: Lie-Vaw-st

_May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. – Edward Abbey_

_of what can I speak_  
_ save of that which is even now moving_  
_ within your souls? – Kahlil Gibran_

There was no such thing as night on Coruscant. There was a certain span of hours where most beings slept, there was the darkening of the sky, and the appearance of stars made faint by the permanent haze of pollution but there was no absolute darkness, no absolute silence. Coruscant did not sleep. Qui-Gon Jinn had spent many nights as a Jedi Knight traveling the city surrounded by noise, light, and people. At one time he had thought it exhilarating, this constant teeming proof of existence all around him, but lately he had found himself searching for something quieter, something that retained some semblance of peace.

He stood, looking out the large window that curved along one side of his quarters. The privacy screening was pulled back so that he could see the countless spires of buildings far into the distance, traffic rushing ceaselessly by. No matter how long he was gone from the Temple, the gleaming movement of the city remained largely unchanged.

Lights inset into the room’s ceiling refracted against the smooth metal walls behind Qui-Gon, glinting off the window and catching the silver in his brown hair. The thick weight of it fell almost to the middle of his back, longer than he normally allowed it to get but he had not bothered to take the time to cut it since he had returned to the Temple. His beard and mustache were grayer as well, he noticed without surprise. Although he was not old when considering the lifespan of humans on his homeworld, he was no longer young either.

His reflection stared pensively back at him, becoming more visible as the sky grew darker. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a powerful, lanky build. His large nose was slightly crooked from being broken during a dangerous mission in his adolescence, his eyes deep-set and dark blue.

A soft beep broke Qui-Gon from his contemplation. He crossed the room in a few strides, picking up his comlink from where he had left it on the bed. There was a brief visual message, the usual summons from the Council. Qui-Gon sent back an affirmative and clipped the comlink to his utility belt. Although he had only returned to Coruscant a week ago, he knew that the Council were already considering him for another mission. It could not be helped. There were too few Jedi Knights to adequately solve the disputes that were happening throughout the Republic.

He did not encounter other Jedi on his way to the Council Chambers as many of the Temple’s varied species were sleeping or quietly meditating. The long, wide corridors were shadowed in half-light due to the late hour. The chrome of the walls around him blended seamlessly into the massive stone pillars that rose up to a high ceiling impossible to see in the darkness. The pillars, Qui-Gon knew, were the oldest part of the Temple, older than most of the city. They had been part of the original Temple, near the beginning of the Jedi’s existence on Coruscant. Qui-Gon could never resist touching the cold stone whenever he passed a pillar, an action engrained now into habit, fingers brushing lightly before retreating, aware of the ancient history beneath his fingertips.

A sense of peace seemed to flow through the air, the feel of thousands of Jedi in tune with the Force creating a sort of resonance inside his mind. Qui-Gon moved with the quick sure strides of a Jedi, following the unique pull of the Force without conscious thought. He entered a turbolift that brought him directly outside the Council Chambers. In the near-darkness, the doors of the Chambers were almost invisible to the eye, the tall curved durasteel sliding apart silently as he approached. Qui-Gon crossed to the center of the circular chambers, bowing. Of the twelve councilmembers, only three were present. Senior Councilmember, Mace Windu, inclined his shaved head at Qui-Gon’s bow, while Adi Gallia offered a small smile from where she was seated.

Qui-Gon glanced over at her. Adi Gallia often worked with the Senate and served as Chancellor Valorum’s Jedi advisor, a strong indicator that whatever mission he would be assigned would be political. Qui-Gon repressed a sigh. He had little interest in politics, but all too often the delicate process of maintaining diplomatic ties between the Senate and planetary governments in the Republic fell to the Jedi to handle. These missions, though tedious, frequently had more far-reaching consequences than combat missions.

“We will begin with what we know,” Mace Windu intoned with his customary briskness as he leaned forward, the soft lighting of the Council Chambers shining on his dark skin, “six weeks ago, Senator K’atou of the FelKel system disappeared on his homeplanet, Livost, while traveling in the Vhosh/PAR region. He was last seen on Vhosh Mountain.”

“It is tradition for Livostens to climb Vhosh Mountain before Tel-Slin/DARIS,” Adi Gallia spoke softly from the shadows. When Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow in confusion, she elaborated, “Tel-Slin/DARIS is a ancient ceremony that is performed planetwide every forty-seven years. If one has not climbed Vhosh mountain sometime before Tel-Slin/DARIS, they are considered an outcast. We believe that K’atou was at Vhosh mountain for that reason, since the ceremony is only a few weeks away. As the planet’s senator, it is crucial that he follow Livosten custom.” Besides Adi Gallia, Yassel, the Quemerian councilmember shifted in his chair, his long neck turning in Qui-Gon’s direction,

“We do not know what happened to K’atou,” He remarked, “the last Livostens who saw him were residents of VHOSH/ay, a village located at the base of Vhosh Mountain. They maintain that he was in good health and did not seem worried about the climb ahead of him. The villagers believe K’atou most likely died from a fall or an attack by predators native to the area. However, his body has not been found. It is Senate mandate that an investigation takes place.”

Yassel waved a long primary hand in a symbolic gesture of caution while his secondary arms remained concealed in his large cloak. “The Livostens are suspicious of offworlders, they will not welcome any interference from the Judicial Department or the Jedi,” he warned, his lipless face wrinkled with concern, his chalky white flesh shining in the darkness.

Mace Windu glanced at the other councilmembers before facing Qui-Gon directly, dark brown eyes intent. “Your mission will be to investigate the disappearance of Senator K’atou from Livost.” He stated, “Another Jedi and you will leave on a passenger shuttle. You will travel to the village of VHOSH/ay as Republic civilians interested in studying Vhosh Mountain. The Senate is willing to allow the Temple full control over this matter. Determine what you can from your surroundings and the Livostens you meet. Keep your Force abilities concealed, we don’t want to complicate the matter by offending the Livostens.”

“Who is the other Jedi?” Qui-Gon asked quietly, surprised that the Council considered two Jedi necessary for a relatively simple investigation.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Adi Gallia murmured, “he has recently been knighted and as this is Kenobi’s first team mission since his knighting, he will take charge of the entire mission. You will follow his lead.”

Qui-Gon dipped his head in a nod, turning the name over in his mind. It was unfamiliar to him, but then it had been awhile since he’d had time to interact with other members of the Temple. It was Jedi custom that once a padawan was knighted they would undergo several solo missions to encourage independence. Afterward, they would be assigned a team mission. The first team mission was an exercise in command ability, a way of seeing how well a newly knighted Jedi could give orders to a older Jedi, often a councilmember or a renowned master, without allowing arrogance or hesitance to hinder the mission. Qui-Gon had not been assigned on a team mission like this, not since his own after his knighting. It would be interesting, to say the least.

“Kenobi has already been briefed about the mission. All information we have on Livost has been transferred to your datapads,” Master Windu instructed sternly, “assemble proper civilian items and prepare for departure at the landing pad listed in your datapad in one hour.”

* * *

The passenger ship at the landing pad was small and unimpressive. Rust covered the bottom of the ship and the blue paint along its side had faded to a dull gray that blended into the metal paneling exposed from where the paint had been scraped away over the years. Despite the ship’s condition, there was a full line waiting to board. Qui-Gon studied the exterior of the ship as the line inched forward. He was not knowledgeable enough about spacecraft to guess the maker, but recognized the rectangular frame as a construction design more popular during his youth.

An uniformed inspector leaned against the ship’s hull, a scan-droid at his side, both surveying the crowd, the inspector’s face slack with boredom. It was standard procedure on Coruscant that all passengers on public transportation were scanned for hidden weapons. Though it was not against Coruscant custom to travel with a blaster, safety reasons dictated that all weapons had to be turned in before boarding a ship. Qui-Gon could not fault the ship owners’ reasoning, he had been on many ships on other planets where such policies were not enacted and the danger of fights escalating out of control was much worse when arguments happened between armed passengers. As a Jedi, he was exempt from having to give up his lightsaber but he was still grateful that saber crystals did not register on weapons scans, considering that it was crucial he keep his Jedi identity hidden during the mission.

When he reached the inspector at the landing ramp, Qui-Gon handed over the blaster rifle he had slung across his back. The rifle was slender, lightweight, and not particularly powerful. The barrel was scratched from use, the model outdated by a decade at least but it was a common weapon for a traveler from the FelKel system and the inspector set the blaster aside without a second glance. Qui-Gon paused, allowing the droid to scan him briefly for hidden weapons before he handed his identification card to the droid who took it with a clawed hand and inserted it into a small slit along its metal arm. There was a soft whirring noise as the droid scanned the card before removing it, returning it to Qui-Gon. Only his occupation as a Jedi Knight had been altered on the identification card, a simple matter for the Temple to correct, and Qui-Gon was waved through the line, the inspector already turning to the next passenger.

Though small, the ship could seat several hundred as most of its interior was one large room. It was crowded, beings streaming into the main area, arguing over seating. Qui-Gon stepped through the open hatch, quickly moving to the side to give room to the others lined up behind him. He paused, searching the crowd. He glimpsed a brown cloak and stepped forward, only to stop again as the Force brightened in his mind, leading him in another direction.

Qui-Gon stilled, intrigued by what he was suddenly aware of. The sense of the other presence was unexplainable at first, there was a certain serenity to it and at the same time an intensity, something both electrifying and steadying. The unknown Jedi’s mind did not have the overwhelming power Qui-Gon was akin to sensing in Yoda, but there was something there, something that left a sort of charge in the room, like closing one’s eyes and still seeing the imprint of light and color.

He moved around various beings, barely brushing against others despite the busy area. He paused again as he noticed a small row of seats built into the sturdy metal floor near the back of the ship. A lean man was seated there dressed in black and gray, similar in cut to Qui-Gon’s own civilian clothes. The man’s head was bent, his pale face clean-shaven. He had short reddish-brown hair with long bangs that fall across his forehead as he looked down at the datapad he held in his left hand. A E’harian moved past Qui-Gon, her feathered crest obscuring Qui-Gon’s view momentarily, he stepped back, waiting for her to pass before approaching the seated Jedi. The man continued studying the information on his datapad with a faint frown of concentration before he lowered it, looking up directly into Qui-Gon’s eyes.

At the sight of the man’s face, Qui-Gon was struck with a sense of extreme familiarity, though he was certain he had never seen the man before. The dim lighting of the ship made it difficult to discern exact age, but Qui-Gon saw that the man was still young, perhaps in his twenties. He had a solemn sort of expression and large light-colored eyes.

“Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan Kenobi greeted quietly, his gaze steady.

The nature of the mission required them to put aside titles, and Qui-Gon appreciated the equality in status that it brought. The man reached over and removed a small bag from the seat next to him, gesturing for Qui-Gon to sit. He did so, the seats so close that their shoulders brushed. He watched the crowd settle, Obi-Wan’s attention returning to his datapad. Qui-Gon looked over and saw that the other Jedi was reviewing the information about Livost that they had both been sent.

Qui-Gon sat his own small bag at his feet, hearing tools clink as they rattled against the metal floor. The supplies that had been assembled for him fit his altered occupation, the bag packed with a small tent and tools in order to maintain his cover as a geologist from the Core Worlds. A smaller portion of the bag held a standard survival kit, gloves, and a change of warmer clothing. It would be cold on Vhosh Mountain.

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan again. Like Qui-Gon, the man’s clothing was similar to the attire commonly worn in the FelKel system. The Livostens tended to wear layers for warmth and preferred coats with cowls or high collars as opposed to cloaks. Obi-Wan wore a thin but insulated dark gray jacket, the coat fastening with three durable straps that ran along the seaming at the sides. The hood of his coat, lined with the dark fur that Livostian outerwear often had, was pushed back and his gloves were fingerless to provide easy movement when not exposed to the elements. A holster was strapped to Obi-Wan’s right thigh, currently empty of whatever blaster the man had been outfitted with. Both their dark-colored trousers were made of stronger fabric and were slightly tighter than what Jedi usually wore.

Qui-Gon looked down at their black serviceable boots, they came up almost to the knee to make it easier to travel in deep snow, the leather scuffed but sturdy. He could not remember ever wearing so much dark clothing. Even on civilian missions, he had regularly worn his Jedi tunics, as they differed little from the plain homespun clothing often worn by poorer communities of various planetary systems. However, Livostens apparently had deep suspicion of almost all colors and dressed only in shades of black and gray, though Qui-Gon’s data on the Tel-Slin/DARIS ceremony mentioned that white was traditionally worn as part of the ancient celebration.

The noise around them rose as passengers continued to find seating. Qui-Gon accessed his datapad, reviewing the information he had on Livost. There wasn’t much. The Livostens were humanoids who had a few cultural customs they retained, such as Tel-Slin/DARIS, but no major religion. Their trade was primarily local, they had little contact with the galaxy although they were not necessarily isolationists as they welcomed mountaineers and scientists that came to study the planetary mountain ranges.

Qui-Gon flipped to the data available on K’atou. He appeared to have been a senator for a number of years and a member of several committees, none of which were noteworthy. He was not implicated in any of the scandals that had occurred during his tenure in the Senate, but he hadn’t pushed for reform either. Qui-Gon frowned, there were thousands of politicians like K’atou, people who were adequate but not remarkable. However, it did not rule out that someone could have kidnapped or killed K’atou because of his political background. Qui-Gon returned to viewing the datafile on the Livostens. Information of the Livostens legal and political system was extremely lacking. He read what there was, not speaking until the majority of the beings around him were seated, engines causing the floor to vibrate as the ship prepared for ascent.

“When do you wish to start the investigation once we arrive at Vhosh/ay?” he asked, turning his head in the other Jedi Knight’s direction.

Obi-Wan looked up from his datapad, “VHOSH/ay,” he said quietly, his voice low, the hints of a rougher homeworld accent discernible beneath his precise Upper Coruscant diction. Qui-Gon tilted his head in confusion and Obi-Wan gestured to the information on Qui-Gon’s datapad.

“It’s VHOSH/ay. The capitalization is used by Livosten linguists to distinguish between their ancient language Li’vo and their modern language Livosti. The emphasis is on the Li’vo word when pronouncing,” he paused, looking away as if suddenly embarrassed for correcting Qui-Gon, “it is normally only used in the names of locations or traditional customs, not in general conversation.”

Qui-Gon blinked, interested. “I wasn’t aware that they had a language before Livosti,” he remarked and Obi-Wan nodded, his expression serious although the tension in his slender body seemed to relax slightly, his eyes brightening at Qui-Gon’s genuine interest.

“Li’vo is their fifth language, Livosti, their eighth. The languages prior to Li’vo and between Livosti are incomplete dialects that were not recorded or were lost when traveling.”

Qui-Gon considered this, he knew that the Livostens were once a more nomadic people, but he had received little information on their history. “When did you learn this?” he asked curiously.

Obi-Wan shifted to the side as a passenger slid by, his arm accidentally brushing Qui-Gon’s, the older Jedi’s Force sense tingling at the sensation.

“After we were assigned the mission I accessed Livost’s archives for additional research.”

Qui-Gon studied the other Jedi, surprised that Obi-Wan chose to memorize more information in the hour they had before leaving and curious at why Livost’s records were so easily accessible. The man looked up at him again, still frowning slightly. There was something about him, a way of interacting with others that could appear standoffish, perhaps even indifferent, but Qui-Gon noticed how Obi-Wan’s large eyes flickered away from him, the man’s movements almost shy as he returned to his datapad.

* * *

It was hours later when the ship’s intercom announced their approach to Livost. Some of the passengers muttered complaints as planetary stops took more time, but there were no docking stations surrounding Livost where shuttles would be provided for unauthorized personnel wishing to visit the planet. At the announcement, Qui-Gon reached for his bag and Obi-Wan lifted his head from where he had been reviewing the information on his datapad. They had not spoken since leaving Coruscant, the noise of the other passengers making conversation too difficult.

The ship slowed as it neared Livost’s orbit, Qui-Gon near enough to a viewport that he was able to watch the white-gray planet draw closer. There was a small jolt as they entered orbit, passengers around them shifting at the sudden movement. Within minutes, the ship was descending through Livost’s atmosphere. The clouds around the ship slowly dissipated, the landscape below them becoming one of trees, rock, and snow. There was a collective murmuring in various languages as the passengers near viewports glimpsed the planet’s surface. Mountains stretched as far as Qui-Gon could see with small valleys showing as only slight gaps between other mountains. Some of the mountain ranges were massive, the peaks too tall for humans to climb even with artificial breathing support, but Vhosh Mountain was much smaller and could be easily climbed in a few days. It was only because of its significance to the Tel-Slin/DARIS ritual that it remained such an important landmark to the Livostens.

The ship circled the valley below Vhosh Mountain. There were a few small buildings there that he guessed made up the town of VHOSH/ay, the only indication of civilization that he could see in the area. A small landing pad was visible in the dirt and snow, far enough away from the village that landing the passenger ship would not disrupt civilians.

The ship slowed further, beginning landing procedure. No other passengers were disembarking and the murmured complaints came again as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan made their way to the front of the passenger ship. At the landing ramp their identification was scanned once more and their weapons returned. Obi-Wan swiveled the long barrel of his handheld blaster into place and slid it into his holster with practiced ease.

They stepped off the ship, boot soles loud against the landing pad that on closer inspection was carved from stone, not duracrete. Obi-Wan stopped at the edge of the landing pad, studying the town in the distance. The ship rose up behind them, engines loud enough to prevent speaking. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon stood still, breathing in air that was slightly thinner, sharp and clean from the cold and lack of pollution. Qui-Gon looked up automatically toward the gray sky where the ship was returning. He felt a spark of interest that he always felt at the beginning of a mission, a curiosity that had not changed since his padawan days.

A harsh wind blew against them, pulling at Qui-Gon’s long hair and causing the older Jedi to shiver at the unending chill. He turned to Obi-Wan, knowing it was the younger man’s responsibility to lead the mission, no matter how strange it felt to no longer be the one deciding what needed to be done.

He had not noticed on board the passenger ship that the other Jedi was quite a bit smaller than he was. It was much more apparent now that they were standing next to one another, as was the difference in their age. Something about the shape of Obi-Wan’s small mouth and the curve of his jaw gave him a somewhat boyish look, his eyes large and an unusual green-blue. Faint freckles, barely visible in the overcast daylight, were scattered across the bridge of his nose. Still, the man’s expression was almost stern and he moved with the grace and strength of a Jedi, bringing a sense of authority to his otherwise ordinary, if handsome, appearance.

The Force shifted between them again, Qui-Gon blinking at the intensity of it. It was rare that he would feel such instant closeness to another Jedi’s Force presence, particularly one he knew so little about. Qui-Gon waited, the world silent around them except for the howling wind. He was unsure if Obi-Wan would be comfortable commanding someone else. It was necessary that the man learn to do so but it was hard for Jedi who had been trained since infancy to be respectful and obedient to those higher ranked than themselves. Obi-Wan inhaled, glancing around before focusing once more on the small town in front of them.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, leading the way.

* * *

There was little snow in the valley but the cold was unabated as they entered the village of VHOSH/ay. The town was extremely small with several drab buildings constructed from wood and stone lining the length of it. The dirt in front of the dwellings provided the only pathway through the village. The ground beneath their feet was a mix of rock and dry brown grass that grew stubbornly in patches, despite the harsh environment. Trees were sparse, though Qui-Gon saw that they thickened into a woods at the ridge of the valley, growing up the side of the mountain. Above them, sunlight shone very briefly between dark clouds, bright but conveying little warmth.

The wind pulled at them and Qui-Gon had to prevent himself from automatically reaching for the Force to stay warm. Though such use of the Force would not be visible to others, it was important to follow the Council’s instructions and resist using his Jedi skills. However, there was no way he could shut himself off from the Living Force and in the barren environment his awareness of Obi-Wan’s quiet presence strengthened as did his perceptions of the village residents.

There were few Livostens outside, the ones that were had stopped their work to stare at the newcomers. Their expressions were difficult to interpret but the Force hummed with a sense of hostility and wariness. The loneliness he had first associated with VHOSH/ay shifted into a warning and Qui-Gon felt his focus sharpen automatically on the size of the town, the number of visible weapons, and the closest escape route. He kept pace with Obi-Wan, neither outwardly showing the tension that they both sensed.

So far every Livosten they passed had black hair and dark eyes, their skin weathered and tanned from the harsh elements. Many of the Livosten men were taller than Qui-Gon by a few inches, their builds heavily muscled. The women were slightly shorter, though still much taller and stronger than Obi-Wan, no doubt an evolutionary benefit for surviving in the slightly thinner atmosphere and rugged surroundings.

Qui-Gon ignored the stares, concentrating instead on the dark emotion behind each glare. Despite their Livost clothing, there was no escaping the fact that his and Obi-Wan’s appearances singled them out as foreigners. Obi-Wan, in particular, could not blend in. Normally, his average stature would have given him the advantage over Qui-Gon of fitting seamlessly into many human populated worlds but here he looked strangely petite, almost fragile, compared to everyone else. The man’s auburn hair and greenish eyes were especially vivid against the dull backdrop of muted brown and gray around them. Perhaps it was that untamable show of color that explained why he drew the most hostility from the Livostens who came out of their homes to watch or turned from their tasks, silent as the two men passed.

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, wondering how the other Jedi was adjusting to such a cold welcome but Obi-Wan did not appear intimidated or affronted by the Livostens’ stares. His expression did not change as he strode forward resolutely, Qui-Gon following him, the ground beneath their feet worn down to rock from where others had walked for centuries. The blaster rifle slung across Qui-Gon’s back bumped lightly against his left shoulder blade.

Obi-Wan stopped suddenly at the entrance to a larger dwelling, glancing briefly at the jagged symbols carved above the doorway’s wooden eves. The building appeared hundreds of years old, though some technological changes had been adapted to it, the wooden door sliding aside as Obi-Wan stepped further into the entrance. They entered a lobby of sorts, the wind thankfully cut off. Slight warmth was tangible but the large room was still cold, cavernous fireplaces along the walls unable to reduce the chill. There were a few Livostens settling at a row of wooden tables in the back of the room, the lobby functioning as an eating area as well.

Qui-Gon lifted his head, examining the thick wooden rafters in the high ceiling. He had traveled many places, and though he felt at home in the modern comfort of Coruscant there was something fascinating about architecture that was so unchanged by the advances of the universe. The wooden framework could only be distinguished from stone by its texture, as years of exposure had stripped away any natural color of the wood, leaving it a dirty gray.

The building appeared to be an inn, Obi-Wan heading to a carved wooden desk to speak to the Livosten behind it. Qui-Gon remained where he was, letting Obi-Wan handle arrangements. He stepped aside as a group passed him. They were clearly a family, the children staring openmouthed, the parents pushing them by, speaking Livosti rapidly in low tones. Several people in the room had stopped their conversations, eyes tracking the two Jedi.

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, sensing a sharp sensation of conflicting emotions in the Force before the man’s mind shielded from him. The younger man turned abruptly from the desk, striding back to Qui-Gon, his expression deliberately kept blank, his thoughts too swift to decipher. He paused in front of Qui-Gon, motioning with a slight tilt of his head that they should leave. They stepped outside, the cold air pressing in on them.

“We have a complication,” Obi-Wan said in an undertone as they stood beneath the inn’s eaves for the scant refuge it provided from the howling wind, “the inn is reluctant to provide lodging to us. My request for a shared room seems to have convinced them that their assumptions are correct.”

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow in confusion, the wind icy against his skin, even with the higher collar of his coat to protect him from the chill. Obi-Wan’s eyes looked darker, somehow more gray, his face still purposely devoid of emotion.

“Assumptions?” Qui-Gon asked softly, Obi-Wan exhaled roughly, crossing his arms over his dark jacket,

“That we are partners,” he responded without looking at Qui-Gon, his eyes moving instead toward the row of buildings in the distance that marked the end of the town.

Qui-Gon placed hands on his hips, trying to untangle the situation. He was not sure why this complicated things. Were he the one leading the mission, he would not bother to analyze information to the depth that Obi-Wan did but it was the younger Jedi who was in charge, not him.

“We_ are_ partners,” Qui-Gon pointed out when it didn’t appear as if the other man would say anything more about why a scientific team studying Vhosh Mountain was so alarming to the Livostens.

“They believe we are lovers.” Obi-Wan stated bluntly, looking up at him again, his expression unexpectedly perceptive, “Apparently, two men traveling together is enough to cause suspicion.” Qui-Gon stared at him, unable to think of a response. Obi-Wan shook his head, deliberately ignoring the gaze of a woman who had stopped on the opposite side of the path to watch them, her face tight with disapproval.

“The innkeeper made it very clear to me that Livostens have a strong prejudice against those they assume are in a relationship with someone of the same gender,” Obi-Wan finally said, pushing a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic display of frustration, “I don’t know why this didn’t show up in the Temple’s data files on Livost.”

Qui-Gon glanced up, meeting the unfriendly stare of a passing man who then took the woman by the arm, guiding her past them. He looked away. He had been to Outer Rim planets where certain sexual orientations were considered unappealing or immoral, but he had never had to worry about being mistaken as someone’s lover. He was rarely partnered with another Jedi on a mission and when he was, his status as a Jedi made any rumors baseless as most civilians were aware of the Jedi vow against romantic attachments.

“I’m not sure if anyone would have suspected that the Livostens would be so against homosexuality, considering the Republic does not allow such discrimination,” he murmured.

Obi-Wan bit his lower lip briefly, appearing suddenly quite young. “Evidently it exists here,” He replied quietly, turning his head to look toward Vhosh Mountain.

Qui-Gon waited for the younger man to continue speaking but Obi-Wan seemed to be thinking about something separate from their immediate concern, his gaze far away. A moment passed, their surroundings appearing even bleaker now that there was some explanation to the Livostens animosity. Obi-Wan glanced back at Qui-Gon, his expression hardening into determination.

“Follow me,” he directed, leading them back inside.

The lobby felt more crowded now, Qui-Gon aware of each unsettled emotion in the large room. He had faced bigotry before under various guises but not quite with this honed certainty to it. He did not think that violence was likely to occur but he kept his focus on the visible tension in the area. The battered rifle slung over his shoulder did not reassure him the way his concealed lightsaber did, though he was skilled enough with a blaster that he knew he could defend himself and Obi-Wan if he had to.

Qui-Gon deliberately stayed a few paces behind Obi-Wan as the younger man walked back to the front desk. An older Livosten stood behind the high, carved desk, his tall build stooped slightly, black hair flecked with gray. He looked sharply at Obi-Wan, mouth twisting with distaste as Obi-Wan stopped in front of him.

“We are citizens of the Republic,” Obi-Wan announced firmly, “you cannot deny us service.”

The Jedi’s voice was strong and clear, echoing faintly in the room. Qui-Gon kept his expression neutral, only his dark blue eyes conveying respect for Obi-Wan’s direct way of handling the situation. There was always a danger to calling attention to prejudice, but Qui-Gon preferred that to remaining voiceless. It was relieving to know that Obi-Wan also understood the importance of showing the Livostens that they would not be intimidated by intolerance. The older man behind the desk glanced toward Qui-Gon briefly before fixing dark cold eyes on Obi-Wan,

“This is Livost not the Galactic Core, we don’t have to provide lodging to those we don’t wish to,” he snapped, turning away in obvious dismissal.

“That is a discriminatory practice,” Obi-Wan replied calmly, his hands held loosely at his sides, his gaze unflinching. The Livosten’s eyes flickered toward them, unguarded resentment twisting his weathered features. He put large hands on the edge of the desk, looming over Obi-Wan.

“Vel sol kivsha shue ludhl,” he muttered, the dialect harsh, almost guttural in a room that seemed to have gone too quiet the moment the words were spoken.

Obi-Wan tilted his head, the younger man studying the older Livosten shrewdly before responding evenly, “Sorit vuahn il,”

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan but felt he should not have been surprised. The younger Jedi’s extensive knowledge of Livost’s languages made sense now. The man behind the desk was more alarmed, he stared at Obi-Wan, shock replacing revulsion momentarily.

“You speak Livosti?” the man’s gaze hardened, his dark eyes narrowed under thick brows, “You are not from here,” he spat out.

“Fortunately,” Obi-Wan remarked cuttingly.

The Livosten watched them both, the Force shifting against such darkness, the hatred in the large room palpable. In a swift movement the man slid a small transparent tile over the desk’s surface. Obi-Wan picked it up and Qui-Gon recognized it as some sort of coding key for the inn’s rooms. They crossed the lobby silently, avoiding eye contact with the Livostens who were still watching them closely as they moved past.

“Pavish kor rik vel!” the innkeeper’s voice rang out behind them, a strange fury bursting forth in the alien language. Obi-Wan stilled. He did not turn but Qui-Gon saw something briefly cross his face.

“What did he say?” Qui-Gon asked quietly.

Obi-Wan shook his head, “it doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice stern as they continued walking but he did not meet Qui-Gon’s eyes.

* * *

The room provided for them was small, considering the size of most Livostens. It was lit and heated only by a narrow fireplace that Obi-Wan crouched near, hands extended toward the warmth. The walls were made from the same wood as the lobby below them. Again, the lack of color was strangely off-putting, the world around them somewhat unreal compared to the moving shape of Obi-Wan who straightened, looking over at Qui-Gon. His hair was still a bit windblown from their walk outside, his long bangs falling forward across his brow.

The room was furnished with a large chair and a bed. Qui-Gon set his bag on the floor, unfastening the straps of his rifle holster, sliding the weapon from his back. Obi-Wan turned back toward the fireplace, adding more wood to it so that the heat and lighting increased. It was still cold, but Qui-Gon had trained his body over the years to adapt to various temperatures so that the warmth of the fire felt soothing now after the outside and the unfriendliness of the Livostens.

“Do you think we will be in danger here?” Obi-Wan asked suddenly, beginning to unbuckle his coat.

Something about his tone surprised Qui-Gon. It was unexpectedly diffident compared to his earlier confidence in the inn’s lobby. He looked over at the smaller man, feeling a sudden need to be gentle with the other Jedi who was avoiding his gaze still, jaw clenched slightly.

“I think we need to be cautious but I do not believe the Livostens will become violent.”

He wasn’t sure if he had reassured Obi-Wan or not. As strange as it was for him not to be leading a mission, he supposed it must be strange for the other Jedi as well, especially considering the cruelty they’d already been exposed to. Qui-Gon slipped his coat off, laying it across the chair and sitting down on the edge of the bed, brow furrowed in thought. He did not know what the innkeeper had said to Obi-Wan but it had obviously been a threat of some kind.

Obi-Wan had unfastened his coat but left it on, digging his datapad out of his pocket and accessing it, his mouth set in a grim line. Whatever he read over the next few minutes seemed to bother him more but he shut off his datapad, pulling his coat off and setting it next to Qui-Gon’s, before sitting on the edge of the large chair, his feet barely touching the floor.

Qui-Gon looked over at him, watching the firelight play across the man’s features, shadowing and highlighting Obi-Wan’s face. The younger man looked tired but his earlier determination seemed to have returned, his posture straight, his stare as direct as it had been when they met on the passenger ship.

“The importance of this mission hinges on our ability to work in a team without drawing attention to our investigation,” Obi-Wan said quietly, “while I do not think we will have difficulty working together, the Livostens intolerance will make things difficult. Clearly, the Council is not aware of the bigotry that pervades Livosten society, otherwise it would have been in the data we received. At the very least, they would have selected Jedi of opposite gender.”

Qui-Gon nodded in thought, crossing his arms and regarding the smaller Jedi, the twisting flames in the fireplace illuminating the room in quick movements. “Just how prejudiced are they?” he asked quietly.

“There appears to be laws against individuals of the same gender interacting with one another in any way that could be considered romantic. Even traveling together without cultural approval is forbidden,” Obi-Wan paused, shaking his head and adding almost as an afterthought “obviously, you and I are not Livosten so we can’t be expected to adhere to all their customs.”

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow skeptically, remembering the cold stares of the Livostens and the way the innkeeper’s face had twisted in disgust and rage when speaking with Obi-Wan. “It doesn’t make us very many friends though.”

Obi-Wan stood, pulling off the fingerless gloves he wore, and moving once more to the warmth of the fireplace. “Regardless,” he said firmly, “we are here and we will do what we can to complete the investigation.”

Unexpectedly, Obi-Wan gave him a small smile. The gesture was fleeting and meant to reassure not convey happiness but it was surprising how it changed the younger man’s face. His eyes gleamed in the firelight, his mouth briefly upturned as he glanced over his shoulder at Qui-Gon. He was very handsome, something Qui-Gon had noticed before but not really thought of. Now he felt suddenly caught in a bright light, unable to look away in those few seconds before Obi-Wan’s smile faded into the solemnity he seemed to draw around himself like a cloak.

Neither of them felt like returning to the inn’s lobby for food, the small meal eaten aboard the passenger ship would supplement enough for them for the time being. As it was, Qui-Gon felt he needed more information on the Livost economic system before attempting to purchase anything in VHOSH/ay. As a Republic planet, Livost’s currency should be credits, but there was no saying that another form of money was not used in remote villages. Besides, he doubted the Livostens would deal fairly with them, not after the way they had already been treated.

He reviewed their data from the Temple again, unable to repress a surge of irritation at how little there was. While Qui-Gon was comfortable working within an unfamiliar environment, the Livostens behavior made the mission that much more difficult. Obi-Wan was also frustrated by their lack of information, the man unable to conceal his emotions through the Force as well as Qui-Gon yet.

However, there was nothing either of them could do for the time being and they turned to the practicality of sleeping arrangements. Obi-Wan had stated in his rather abrupt way that he didn’t believe one of them would have to keep watch but that they should have their weapons nearby. They didn’t speak further than that as they undressed, Qui-Gon pulling his long hair back and braiding it loosely with quick familiar motions. Sharing a bed was not an altogether unusual custom on many planets and over the years Qui-Gon had gained the ability to fall asleep at any time or place when he needed to. He had never thought much about the matter before but now he found it suddenly difficult to fall into the comfort of sleep with someone so near.

There was no denying that the Living Force drew him to Obi-Wan, despite how little he knew of the man. Perhaps it was the assumptions of the Livostens that caused Qui-Gon to realize that some part of him was entering into something barely understood but longed for, though he could not yet name what it was. All he knew for certain was the awareness he had of Obi-Wan who had turned on his side, the movement of body beneath the fabric of nightclothes visible in the soft flickering light of the fire.

They each laid on opposite sides of the large bed, blankets over them, the cold slowly seeping away. There was an intimacy to hearing the breathing of another person close to him, to see Obi-Wan’s head turn toward him, watching Qui-Gon with soft studiousness. Qui-Gon met his eyes, surprised that the intensity there had lifted somewhat, the younger man’s face relaxed into a quietness that held him captive. It was remarkably vulnerable to be so open to another, the Force filling each hollow space so that the distance between their bodies was no longer thought of. There was only this, the darkened room, the firelight turning Obi-Wan’s hair a richer shade of red, the man’s gaze deep, their Force presences circling one another, almost touching in the stillness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know about you, but I love the ‘having to share a bed’ troupe, it’s just sweet to think of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon barely knowing one another and already cuddling close (only to share body warmth though, right?).
> 
> So this idea has been in my head for awhile, and homophobia is a theme I do work into some short stories, but I really wanted to write a longer fic about Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon having to work together on a planet that is extremely intolerant toward them, while at the same time they are falling in love with one another. Perhaps because I live in an area that is not always the easiest to be out in, I really feel it’s important to show how Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon feel and respond to the homophobia that they face. Also, I wanted Obi-Wan to be the mission leader, although Qui-Gon and him are very much equals in how they interact with one another. 
> 
> Here’s some translations of the dialogue between the innkeeper and Obi-Wan:
> 
> “Vel sol kivsha shue ludhl” – filth like you make me sick. 
> 
> “Sorit vuahn il” – so it appears.
> 
> chapter two will be up next week, probably on Monday the 7th!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your comments and kudos on the previous chapter, it made my week :). also, I’m really excited to see so many people already posting things for the Jinnobi Challenge, this year might be the best one yet! 
> 
> This chapter is from Obi-Wan’s pov, so I hope you all enjoy!

Obi-Wan woke from a deep sleep into instant alertness in a matter of seconds. His eyes opened, blinking in the half-darkness, muscles instinctively tensing as he reached out with the Force, ascertaining the safety of his surroundings. The room was cold and shadowed from where the fire had burned low. There were no windows to see the outside but he guessed it was likely early morning for he could faintly hear movement in other parts of the inn, distant voices speaking from the lobby below them, the sharpness of Livosten words not quite decipherable.

He breathed in, tasting the cold air but not feeling it circulate through him. His body was warm beneath the covers and Obi-Wan bit his lip, overcome suddenly with shyness. Although Master Jinn and him had slept on opposite sides of the large bed, they had moved in the night so they were now much closer. The same blanket surrounded them both, their legs and feet touching. Obi-Wan could feel warmth radiating from their torsos lightly pressed together, his arm having fallen over the man’s waist sometime during the night. The Force hummed contently between them and Obi-Wan frowned, drawing a breath in slowly. This was dangerous, this comfort he felt in Qui-Gon’s presence would not be allowed. His mind knew that, and yet his body relaxed in such closeness, automatically seeking the warmth and security the other man’s presence gave him on a cold and unfriendly world.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He was a fool to pretend that was the only reason. From the moment he had first seen the older Jedi on the passenger ship he had known that he was lost to emotions wholly unsuited to a Jedi. It was against the Code for him to feel so much, so instantly, and yet the Force seemed to glow between them, the rightness of it all conflicting with everything Obi-Wan knew of the law against attachments.

He opened his eyes, turning his gaze to the darkened ceiling above him, the thick wooden rafters invisible in the shadows. He had never felt attraction before. Obi-Wan knew it was a common emotion for some but he had never had to worry about being swayed from the Jedi path. Even his friendships were no more than acquaintances, so uncomfortable was he with the vulnerability of opening his heart to someone.

Qui-Gon Jinn was somewhat of a legend at the Temple, famous for his lightsaber skill, his unconventional behavior, and his incurable wanderlust. Now in his middle years, the Jedi Master had a long history of not following many of the philosophies of the Jedi nor having any interest in rising within the Temple’s hierarchy. However, he was still a Jedi, as bound to the Code in its entirety as Obi-Wan was.

He glanced again at Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master’s taller form was curved slightly in his sleep, retaining body heat. Obi-Wan was close enough to see the fine lines on Qui-Gon’s face though the man looked younger than his actual age. Qui-Gon’s long hair was coming loose from his braid, silver showing amongst the brown as it curved over a broad shoulder, his undertunic baring strong arms and revealing the paleness of his throat and upper sternum. Obi-Wan swallowed, turning away. He could not allow himself to feel the emotions that were continuing to surface every time he looked at the man. It was strange enough acknowledging he was capable of experiencing desire, he felt completely unprepared at dealing with the soft tenderness filling him as he watched the other Jedi sleep.

Abruptly, Obi-Wan moved, sliding from the large bed. He crossed over to the fire, the chill of the room sharp and painful after lying so close to another’s warmth. He shivered in his thin nightshirt, staring blankly at the glowing embers in the fireplace, forcing himself to think only of the mission and not the way Qui-Gon shifted in his sleep on the bed, one large hand feeling the blankets for where Obi-Wan had been.

He added more wood to the fireplace, flames flaring brightly so that his shadow looked large and unfamiliar against the wall. Livost was not the coldest planet he had visited but he had never encountered such bleakness. The hostility Obi-Wan could deal with, he’d been disliked before for various reasons. He knew he was often awkward when speaking, too blunt or too hesitant. He had never been able to interact with his peers, and his master had been a teacher, not a friend to him. It was, Obi-Wan reflected, a shortcoming of his, this inability to know how to put others at ease. He had dreaded the shared mission, knowing it would only complicate things further. Yet, Master Jinn did not take offense at what Obi-Wan did or did not say. He was kind and respectful, despite the convoluted situation they were in now.

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his short hair absently. It had been incredibly uncomfortable to have to inform the other Jedi that they were seen as lovers by the Livostens, worse still was the prejudice they had already faced. He could sense Qui-Gon’s urge to protect him from the cruel stares of the villagers but it only made things more difficult. Obi-Wan exhaled roughly, crossing his arms against the slowly fading cold, his bare feet and legs still feeling the sting of the morning chill. The Livostens considered same-sex relationships to be immoral and evil. As a Jedi, even contemplating a relationship with another being was against the law of attachments. And now Obi-Wan was in love.

He shook his head slightly. No, it was too dangerous to think of. Even if they weren’t Jedi, they were in a very antagonistic environment. Besides, Obi-Wan doubted that Qui-Gon Jinn could ever come to care for him in such a way. They were too different from one another. Master Jinn was renown, almost elite amongst other Jedi while Obi-Wan was widely viewed as unfriendly and strange. Flames leapt among the wood as moisture trapped in the bark hissed when it met heat. Obi-Wan turned away. He would not allow himself to consider the matter any further. They were Jedi, they had a mission to complete.

He paused as Livosten voices grew closer, followed by footsteps, before fading as a group of villagers passed outside their door and went down to the inn’s lobby. Obi-Wan had thought of questioning the Livostens about their interactions with the senator but he would have to reconsider how to go about the investigation now that Qui-Gon and him were so distrusted by the villagers. Still, he had learned Livosti years ago, though it had been more out of interest in preserving an ancient language than out of a desire to live on such a desolate world, at least now he would be able to know what insults the Livostens threw at them. He brushed his long bangs back from his eyes, feeling a protective sort of relief that Qui-Gon did not know what the Livostens said about them. Though the villagers’ meaning was not difficult to make out, Obi-Wan would rather not have the man hear the direct threats and accusations. He moved toward his bag, gathering warm clothing to change into, his feet tingling from the iciness of the stone floor. His thoughts once more focused on the words the innkeeper had spoken to him earlier, unable to be easily dismissed.

_“Pavish kor rik vel.”_

_Your kind deserve death._

* * *

Bathing on a world cut off from much of the technology lauded by the Republic was always an uncomfortable experience. Obi-Wan was relieved to find that the facilities provided by the inn were both clean and private. He did not feel shame over nudity but he had no desire to remain far from a weapon if surrounded by angry civilians, particularly when he was not allowed to use the Force in their presence.

Obi-Wan stepped from the large bath, wiping excess water from his limbs and toweling off with a rough but clean cloth that hung near the door. Shivering slightly at the coolness of the air, he glanced around the room. It was small by Livosten standards, but everything was a bit large for him. It seemed an unfortunate coincidence that he often ended up on planets where he was much shorter than the other beings inhabiting it. He shrugged, pulling on his dark clothing, grateful for the added warmth. He combed his wet hair back with one hand and hurriedly pulled on boots.

He had not left a note for Qui-Gon on where he had gone. Obi-Wan did not know when the man would wake but he was sure that even with how little they really knew one another, Qui-Gon could effectively find him in the Force. Their minds seemed drawn to one another on a more powerful level than Obi-Wan had experienced with other Jedi. He dropped his hands to his side, swallowing as he pushed back the longing that threatened to emerge. He had made his decision not to allow his thoughts to continue in that direction and he would abide by it.

That decision was much more difficult to uphold when he returned to the inn’s room and found Qui-Gon standing near the bed still in his nightclothes of undertunic and underwear. The man’s graying hair was unbraided now and loose, falling down his back, his head bent as he examined information on the datapad he held. He seemed oblivious to the cold air in the shadowed room, the glow of his datapad washing his features with blue-white light. The fire had burned low again and Obi-Wan stepped into the half-darkness, avoiding the blue eyes that turned to look at him as he crossed the room to the large chair, picking up his neatly folded coat.

He could sense Qui-Gon even more powerfully than the previous day, as if a sort of continuous flow of energy was circulating from their Force signatures, loosely connecting them. Obi-Wan looked down at the thick material in his hands, unfolding the fabric with suddenly clumsy motions. He told himself that he was only feeling the Force presence of Qui-Gon so clearly because there were no other Jedi in the area. He tried not to think of what else it could mean.

Still, he could not help noticing the older Jedi, the way Qui-Gon moved with ease despite his state of undress, his lanky body powerful from years of training. The man tapped on his datapad and a hologram rose from the pad’s surface, twisting and reforming into a blueprint of Vhosh Mountain. Obi-Wan tugged his coat on, approaching Qui-Gon’s side, attention now entirely focused on the schematic before them.

“The data from the Council registers the most likely spot that K’atou vanished to be here,” Qui-Gon tapped the lower surface of the hologram and it zoomed in, the flickering mountainside showing a rocky landscape where dried grass and trees gave way to snow.

Obi-Wan studied the layout, looking for any obstacles that could have caused K’atou’s death, if the Senator had died. The blue shimmering surface was fully three-dimensional and he turned his head, examining the image from all angles. For a moment he hesitated to speak, unsure if Qui-Gon would want his opinion, before he remembered that he was the supposed leader of the mission.

“I think it’s quite likely he never made it further than that,” Obi-Wan said, his brow furrowed in thought, “considering his lack of experience in mountain-climbing. However, the terrain further up is much more dangerous, he could’ve run into trouble closer to here.” He tapped the edge of the hologram, shifting their view half up Vhosh Mountain where the steep ground gave way briefly to ledges and frozen waterfalls, the incline becoming a much gentler slope. “There are hidden springs in this area but they’re not often visited because travelling to them is considered treacherous in warmer weather.”

Qui-Gon nodded, contemplating the large hologram, “do you think he would have attempted it?” he asked, his voice soothing, with that slight lilt that Obi-Wan had noticed earlier, some hidden remainder of a home world dialect.

Obi-Wan shrugged, “it’s possible. It would have been considered an impressive achievement and it would not have been as difficult a few months ago when the winter season was still in effect.”

Qui-Gon nodded again and tapped the datapad once more; the hologram wavered and vanished. The older man rubbed the edge of his bearded jaw, his contemplative frown suddenly softening into faint amusement.

“And here I assumed _this_ was the winter season,” he said with a small smile directed at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan looked quickly away, overcome with the bizarre urge to blush. He stared down at his boots until the shyness left, uncomfortable with his strange reactions to the other Jedi. He should not be so easily captivated by the man’s smile, he warned himself sternly, nor should he think of how attractive Qui-Gon Jinn was like this. He busied himself with fastening his coat.

“We should start climbing the same route that K’atou traveled. We’ll begin investigation where the Council’s data suggested and continue up the mountain if our search is unsuccessful there,” he said suddenly, perhaps sharper than he intended but Qui-Gon did not seem bothered by it.

The taller Jedi reached for his bag, slipping the datapad inside and securing it firmly. His graying hair fell partway down his back and into his face and Obi-Wan tried to ignore the flush of warmth in his stomach as he watched Qui-Gon tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear in attempt to get the thick graying mane out of his way.

“When do you wish to leave?” Qui-Gon asked, Obi-Wan shrugged, still avoiding the man’s gaze.

“As soon as possible. I’ll purchase food for us.”

He turned to go, pausing in the doorway, half-glancing in the direction of the taller man. Obi-Wan felt he should say something else, but he did not know what. His tightly shielded emotions crowded against the inside of his throat as the dying firelight caught the edges of Qui-Gon’s form in the shadows, faintly lighting the strength of the man’s shoulders, the masculine shape of his long torso.

* * *

The Livostens were significantly unhelpful when it came to buying anything from them and Obi-Wan found himself facing an irate storekeeper who seemed content with mumbling curses in his direction, despite Obi-Wan making it clear he knew exactly what the man was saying.

The village shop was much smaller and colder than the inn. The building was unheated and poorly supplied with the only food available frozen in blocks. Unidentifiable ice-covered shanks of meat hung from the high rafters, turning desolately above Obi-Wan. He selected a few packets of protein cubes and dried supplies for soups but refrained from choosing anything else. As Jedi, Qui-Gon and him could go days without food if they had to. The mission would not take long enough for them to worry about their rations being depleted.

The villager crossed his arms defiantly, his weathered face creasing with open disgust as he glared at Obi-Wan. He deliberately used his much larger body to try to intimidate as he leaned over the counter where Obi-Wan had placed his supplies. The transparency of the storekeeper’s actions were more irritating than frightening and Obi-Wan stared coldly at the man, uncaring if his own disrespect went against Temple protocol for diplomatic negotiations.

It was difficult to continue to remain entirely indifferent to the stares and murmurs when he walked back to the inn. Some villagers merely eyed him with a repulsed sort of curiosity but there were others who did not seem to be above responding with violence. Obi-Wan kept his gaze straight ahead, determined not to give the Livostens any more reason to take offense.

The wind was not as strong as the day before, but the coldness of the environment seemed to seep within his very bones. The lack of color in his surroundings felt strange, the darkness of his own clothing surprising him at times. He missed the soothing atmosphere of the Temple and the verdant life he had witnessed on other missions. The only plants he had seen on Livost were trampled dead grass and the large trees that climbed up the base of the mountain.

* * *

They set off as soon as Obi-Wan had returned, Qui-Gon now dressed in the warm outer gear needed for the climb. It was a relief to no longer hear the half-whispered insults as they walked side by side through VHOSH/ay. Obi-Wan shifted his grip on the shoulder strap of the bag swung over his back. Neither of them felt comfortable leaving anything behind and Obi-Wan highly doubted that the inn would be willing to provide them another day of lodgings. He looked up at the mountain silhouetted against the gray sky. Hopefully, the investigation would be resolved soon and they would return to Coruscant without conflict.

As they neared the treeline, they both paused at hearing strange notes of music. A flutter of wings scattered tree needles as they approached and Obi-Wan slowed, listening to the birdsong. It was clear and beautiful in the morning light. The small brown bodies of tiny birds were visible through the thick boughs of the trees as they entered the narrow wood. Mountain thrushes, Obi-Wan remembered from the list of animal lifeforms on Livost. The trees grew wild, thick, and crowded enough that the forest was noticeably darker. Without the birds it might have been ominous but Obi-Wan found the enclosed area oddly comforting after the open bleakness of the valley. The ground rose before them and they both adjusted their pace to match the incline of the mountain.

One of the birds landed on a nearby branch, studying Obi-Wan with small black eyes. Obi-Wan stopped, watching the mountain thrush, hearing the singing all around him, almost inside his bones so clearly did it vibrate in the stillness. The bird did not seem as hesitant as the others and shuffled closer along the branch. Without thinking, Obi-Wan reached out a hand and the bird jumped before leaning forward, almost touching his fingers. The nearby flight of another bird startled the thrush and it spread its wings, swooping away, feathers catching the edge of Obi-Wan’s knuckles. A noise behind Obi-Wan made him turn, tensing slightly as he saw Qui-Gon had been watching him. He waited, aware that his actions must have seemed strange if not childish, but there was a softness around Qui-Gon’s mouth, a sort of gentleness to his face that did not leave when their eyes met.

They stood there for awhile, surrounded by the clear birdsong and the whispering rush of feathers before a distant howl made the thrushes take sudden flight, the noise of their leaving a sharp upswell through the branches and then silence once more. Obi-Wan turned his head in the direction of the howl but saw nothing through the trees. The noise had been far enough away that it could easily have been the wind, distorted from where it bent around the mountain. He continued walking, the frozen grass beneath his feet giving way to patches of snow. Qui-Gon moved at his side, neither speaking.

* * *

As the snow increased, so did the rocks, large massive boulders jutting out from the white landscape. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow but stood patiently as Qui-Gon stopped often to study the rocks, scanning them with a small datascanner that had been provided for their disguise as scientists. The handheld device was far more advanced than most of their gear, constantly scanning their surroundings for anything unusual. The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth turned slightly in a small smile as he watched the older Jedi analyze the recorded data with rapt fascination. He should have known that Qui-Gon actually did have a genuine interest in geology.

“The age of many of these rocks are too old to register on the datascanner,” Qui-Gon said, one gloved hand brushing snow off the surface of the dark gray boulder in front of him, his brow creased as he scrolled through the datascanner’s logs. Obi-Wan nodded, glancing up toward the overcast sky and the top of Vhosh mountain towering above them.

“Myth claims that the mountain is the oldest on all of Livost, thus the tradition of climbing it,” he said quietly, looking back at Qui-Gon who turned, meeting his gaze, still lost in thought.

“That would explain the amount of rockfall,” he surmised, “the mountain is coming apart from what it once was, most of it has eroded into the valley over the last millennia.”

Obi-Wan nodded. They continued walking, the snow more difficult to wade through the further they climbed. Obi-Wan was grateful for the tall boots they both wore. A cold wind blew and he pulled the fur-lined hood of his coat up to protect himself as best he could from the all encompassing chill. After an hour the mountainside became steeper, both of them stopping to survey the sheer rockface before them.

Obi-Wan could see where centuries of Livostens had worn away handholds into the rock to make climbing easier. It was the most common route when approaching from VHOSH/ay to scale the steep mountain ledges. After that there would be only minor climbing needed at different intervals along the way. Once they reached the halfway point they would be at the most dangerous part of the climb. The hidden springs were apparently beautiful, but Obi-Wan felt the risk of reaching them wasn’t worth it. If K’atou had insisted on following tradition, he would have likely gone there though. They paused, Obi-Wan unfastening the Hsk’pel cable the Temple had packed for rope. Deceptively thin, the cable was strong enough to hold up a starship if it had to.

“Anything from the datascanner?” he asked and Qui-Gon shook his head.

“I’ve programmed it to alert us if it comes across human remains but that won’t be much help if K’atou was kidnapped.”

Obi-Wan nodded, stepping back to study the wall of rock in front of them, looking for a place to attach the cable. “It’s far more likely that he’s dead,” he said frankly, then regretted his bluntness.

He had been lectured by his master countless times for appearing insensitive when he spoke. Obi-Wan did not know how to explain that it wasn’t a lack of compassion that made him so unsuited to conversing with others. Still, he had learned to keep quiet most of the time, it was easier than trying to puzzle out what other people meant for him to say. He was surprised once more that Qui-Gon did not seem bothered, only nodded and began searching for a place to attach his own cable.

The climb was not as problematic as it could have been, not after years of Jedi training, still, Obi-Wan found it difficult to keep up with Qui-Gon. The larger man was quite light and graceful when climbing, moving with swift assurance. They paused after a few minutes on a small ledge that served as an improvised foothold.

“We’ll need to find out which route K’atou took when we reach the next part of the mountain,” Obi-Wan instructed over the wind, if only to distract himself from the closeness between them. Qui-Gon turned his head toward him, the man already feeling automatically for another handhold above.

“It may be difficult to know for certain,” he responded, propelling off the ledge and further up the wall, hardly needing the safety rope. Obi-Wan followed a bit more cautiously, but stayed level with the Jedi, trying not to tense every time their limbs brushed one another’s as they sought out the next handhold.

The wind pushed against them and they tucked their faces down, Obi-Wan grateful for the hood on his coat, his fingers almost numb from the cold breeze. It would likely lessen once they were no longer on the sheer rockface, but for now it was a constant problem. He felt the warmth of Qui-Gon’s Force presence as they climbed. The strict restrictions of their usage of the Force didn’t seem to apply to the intimacy that was settling between their minds. Obi-Wan bit his lip, tasting the sting of the cold from the ice and snow that blew into his face.

“You’re a decent climber,” Qui-Gon remarked as they drew level to one another once more and Obi-Wan blinked, startled at the unexpected compliment.

“You are much better than I,” He murmured, unsure if Qui-Gon could even hear him over the wind. Apparently the older Jedi did, Qui-Gon shrugging, a move Obi-Wan thought too causal and risky to be attempting while scaling a cliff wall.

“I enjoy climbing, though I do not have many opportunities to do so, outside of Temple training.”

“Surely there were missions dangerous enough that you had to utilize all forms of escape,” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but point out, flushing slightly as Qui-Gon moved carefully over him, his larger body warm and very close before the man reached for the next handhold, swinging himself further up the wall.

“There were some, but I tend to end up having to break out of prison,” Qui-Gon replied easily, glancing over his shoulder at Obi-Wan who climbed back up to his side, the wind blowing Qui-Gon’s hair everywhere so that it clung to Obi-Wan’s coat.

“Perhaps you should try to avoid being imprisoned in the first place?” Obi-Wan suggested, raising an eyebrow. He’d heard of the many mishaps that occurred on Master Jinn’s missions but he’d never thought Qui-Gon would have been captured as many times as the man implied.

“It is an idea,” Qui-Gon remarked thoughtfully before turning and smiling at Obi-Wan once more. “I suppose I should consider having you with me from now on. I doubt I’d be arrested nearly so often if you were there to get me out of trouble.”

Obi-Wan ducked his head at another gust of wind, hoping the cold would make it less obvious that he was blushing furiously and unable to think of how to respond to the other man’s statement. It was foolish of him to take the man’s lighthearted words as having any deeper meaning but the idea that Qui-Gon would actually _want_ to work with him again made him struggle to hold back a small smile.

* * *

The surface of the rock abruptly changed as they clambered over the next ledge, the ground becoming far easier to travel on foot. They disconnected their cables, Obi-Wan winding his up quickly and fastening it once more to his bag, watching as Qui-Gon studied the area. After this point there were three routes that those climbing Vhosh Mountain took and while Temple data had suggested K’atou took one of the more well-worn paths, it was important they not rule out the other options. Obi-Wan approached the other Jedi’s side, reminded all over again at how much taller the man was when Qui-Gon straightened up from where he had crouched to examine another rock pile. Qui-Gon gestured to one of the paths, half-buried under the mound of rock.

“The paths aren’t as clear here, but I doubt K’atou would deviate from the planned route. The rockfall on the left would have blocked the south passage some time ago, you can see the damage to the rock here hasn’t been disturbed and ice crystals have formed much further than they have on the other paths.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He had come to the same conclusion, but was pleased that they were in agreement. “That leaves the other two paths. I still think it’s probable he followed the path leading to the springs but we should investigate both leads.” He stated, turning to look at where the other paths wound up the mountain.

“It’s strange we haven’t encountered others yet,” he murmured, aware of the emptiness around them, the wind dying down now so they seemed the only living creatures amongst the rock and snow.

Qui-Gon stopped a few feet away, studying the other two routes as well, “perhaps,” he remarked calmly, his voice soothing in the sudden quiet, “but Tel-Slin/DARIS is only weeks away. I’m sure others have already had the opportunity to complete the climb,” he crossed arms over his coat, offering Obi-Wan that same slight smile he had shown earlier, the gesture unexpectedly endearing, “as you said, the weather is warmer than it should be for Livost, that changes even a simple climb.”

Obi-Wan nodded, eyeing both paths closely again. He felt instinctively that the path to the springs was the right one, but he would not completely rule out the other without seeing what they could find at first. He gestured to the small path, barely visible through the snow. It was not as steep as the one to the springs but it was still difficult terrain. A few trees, wind-stripped of needles grew through the snow. Rock scattered thickly along the path, likely from other rockfalls over the last few years. Obi-Wan glanced up at the mountainside, hoping the whole thing didn’t come down on them over the next few days.

They moved down the path without further conversation, having to walk single-file at times to move around the half-buried boulders. Obi-Wan had been on enough dangerous missions that he felt no fear about their surroundings only the cold still startled him with its persistence. He found he didn’t mind the empty silence of the mountainside, perhaps because Qui-Gon’s Force presence made it clear to him he wasn’t alone, even if they did not speak while they walked.

It was becoming steadily colder, the gray sky darkening so incrementally that Obi-Wan did not realize that it was nearing nightfall. Shaking his head at his inattention, he stopped, turning to Qui-Gon. Snow caught in the man’s beard and hair but he did not seem bothered by the cold, looking instead at the path before them, eyes traveling the mountainside, searching for a place to set up camp. He stepped aside, relieved that the ground was stable enough that they could traverse easily to a ledge somewhat higher up. An overhang of rock shielded direct wind and at Obi-Wan’s raised eyebrow Qui-Gon reassured him that it was not in danger of coming loose anytime soon from the mountainside. Obi-Wan held back further skepticism, acknowledging with a nod the other man’s expertise.

They gathered firewood from the few trees in the area, careful to take only enough to provide perhaps an hour’s worth of fuel. Obi-Wan was near the edge of the path when the same haunting howl from earlier came, loud enough to be heard clearly over the wind. They both paused. The path they had traveled from the village was too dark to see fully but shapes were moving in between the boulders that were strewn along the base of the mountain, past the tree line. Qui-Gon came to stand at Obi-Wan’s side.

“Vrakray,” Qui-Gon spoke softly, watching the dark shapes dart over the rocks below them, “they should be in hibernation right now.”

Obi-Wan glanced toward him, not having to see Qui-Gon’s face to recognize the note of frustration in the man’s voice. Another failure of the Temple’s archives to provide adequate information. He stepped closer, tracking the movements of the creatures. They were not particularly large, but their sleek bodies were muscled and moved extremely quickly. Their coats were shades of dark gray and black, the fur thin enough that he, like Qui-Gon, had assumed that the vrakray would be deep in hibernation now. The cold wind blew harshly against them and Obi-Wan crossed his arms, looking down at the path far below.

“We’ll have to face them if we intend to return to VHOSH/ay.”

They had been fortunate as it was, that they had not been attacked earlier in the morning when they had walked through the boulder-strewn base of the mountain. Though vicious, vrakray could not scale the rock wall. The rest of the journey up the mountain would be free of them, but there was no denying that the long howls were an ominous sound against the backdrop of the wind.

“They aren’t fond of fire or loud noises,” Qui-Gon remarked, “that is likely why they don’t venture closer to the village.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head, feeling oddly pleased that Qui-Gon had memorized more information than what had been provided in the data the Temple had sent them on Livost. He had expected the older Jedi to be more spontaneous in his decisions but Qui-Gon possessed both wisdom and intellect, even if he was rather more impulsive than Obi-Wan. The discomfort of telling a respected Jedi master what to do had faded and Obi-Wan felt a soft warmth fill him at the companionship between them that had developed. He had never had a friend before and it was surprisingly nice to feel that possibility now.

They returned to setting up camp beneath the small ledge, Obi-Wan expertly building a fire as Qui-Gon unpacked and assembled the small tent they had brought with them. A few stars appeared through the heavily clouded night sky. Obi-Wan glanced up at the faint constellations above them, mapping their location without really thinking about it. When he returned his gaze to the flickering fire he saw that Qui-Gon was standing by the tent, watching him with that same softened expression from earlier. The Force was shifting between them, becoming stronger and clearer, though neither of them knew quite how to acknowledge it.

Obi-Wan prepared a meal of soup, made from snowmelt and the meager food supplies from the village. It felt strange to move around without his bag, he was already so used to the weight of it. He could feel where his shoulders and back were lightly bruised from the straps of the bag, but there was no pain. His life as a Jedi had trained him to be much stronger than he looked.

“I have not seen you before at the Temple,” Qui-Gon said halfway through their meal.

Obi-Wan tilted his head, “I’m usually on missions, or researching in the archives,” he answered quietly, “besides, there are quite a few younger knights and older padawans at the Temple, I wouldn’t have expected you to remember me even if our paths had crossed.”

“I would have remembered you, had I met you,” Qui-Gon said with such firmness that Obi-Wan put his foldable dish down, staring hard at the man who looked back at him with an expression equally open and unreadable.

There was too much unsaid in that look, too much that filled the Force, sparking within the loose connection between them. Obi-Wan wanted with sudden intensity to bridge the gap between them, to feel all of the man’s mind against his own even as he became aware that some part of him desired the same of their bodies. He bit his lip, turning his head away, too shocked at his own longing to feel the shame he knew he should feel. Such thoughts were completely inappropriate for a Jedi to have. Qui-Gon spoke awhile later, unaware of Obi-Wan’s inner turmoil or perhaps too kind to address the matter,

“You specialized in Ataru,” he murmured, suggesting the lightsaber form as more of a statement than a question.

Obi-Wan nodded, pushing his soup in his bowl around, avoiding the other man’s eyes for as long as possible, “I’ve been focusing on learning Soresu since my knighting,” he said quietly, and Qui-Gon smiled, the man’s face strikingly handsome in the light of the low-burning flames,

“Two forms of combat is ambitious, though highly useful. My master attempted to teach me Makashi, but I felt more comfortable with Ataru at a young age.”

There was a note of bitterness in Qui-Gon’s voice at the mention of his Master and Obi-Wan looked up. Although he had never met him, he’d heard almost as much about Master Dooku as he had heard about Master Jinn. Dooku was a skilled Jedi, there was no denying that but when Obi-Wan had heard accounts of Dooku’s successful missions he could not help but privately consider the senior Jedi to be surprisingly arrogant. He could not fault Qui-Gon’s thinly veiled dislike, it would not be easy to be the apprentice of someone like Dooku, particularly when that someone was as headstrong and unorthodox as Qui-Gon Jinn was.

“Who did you complete your training with?” Qui-Gon asked, rinsing his bowl with snow and setting it near the fire to dry.

Obi-Wan shifted closer to the flames, the night temperatures much lower than the day temperatures had been, “Master Ko Nevri,” he answered after a pause.

“He is a powerful Jedi.” Qui-Gon responded and Obi-Wan dipped his head in a nod.

He was grateful for the instruction his master had given him, but he had never had the closeness some Jedi teams shared and his knighting had served only to completely cut him adrift from any camaraderie among other Jedi. At least until now. Obi-Wan glanced briefly at the older Jedi but looked away before Qui-Gon could meet his eyes.

They moved in silence, both packing what needed to be, Obi-Wan putting out the fire so that the only light was the very brief starlight between clouds and the hazy distant moon that drifted in and out of Livost’s orbit. Qui-Gon’s dark clothing blended into the night, only the pale glimpse of the man’s skin was visible. The tent was very dark when they both climbed in and quite small. Obi-Wan moved their bags against the wall, the space cold enough that neither of them took off their winter gear but instead lay beneath the thermal blankets they had each packed. The distant howls of the Vrakray were chilling, but no longer alarming now that they had discovered its source. Strangely, Obi-Wan found he missed the birdsong from earlier. He shifted onto his back, sleep eluding him at the awareness of Qui-Gon’s body next to his own.

“Do you plan on questioning the Livostens?” Qui-Gon asked in the dark, the abrupt inquiry contrasting with the man’s softened voice very near him.

“No,” Obi-Wan answered, his own voice quiet, “I do not think we will learn anything from them that is not in the initial report. They’re unfriendly to us but they did not seem to harbor any resentment toward K’atou. If the investigation is still unsuccessful after examining both paths then we should return, but it would not be wise to antagonize the villagers so soon.”

“Our mere presence seems to antagonize them enough,” Qui-Gon pointed out dryly and Obi-Wan turned his head in the man’s direction.

“Their prejudice is unfortunate,” he could think of nothing else to say, but Qui-Gon moved, rolling unto his side, the warmth from his body a tangible heat separate from that of the thermal blanket.

“It is disturbing that we were not aware of their prejudice to begin with. The Temple clearly needs to readjust how they conduct research.”

Surprisingly, Obi-Wan gave a small laugh at that, pleased that they felt so similarly about the matter. Qui-Gon’s own voice sounded pleased as well when he spoke again and warmer, as if Obi-Wan’s laugh had opened another pathway in the Force connection building between them.

“It is frustrating to have a mission undermined by others destructive beliefs, but I am grateful for your company.”

“It complicates things,” Obi-Wan whispered, inordinately shy as Qui-Gon’s hand accidentally brushed against his arm in the dark.

“The Livostens complicate things,” The older man corrected, his tone gentle in the shadowed tent, his long hair falling as a warm weight against Obi-Wan’s shoulder, “they should know that there is no evil in love.”

* * *

Obi-Wan woke to soft warmth, the fabric of the tent snapping slightly in the sharp breeze outside. The inside of the tent was still dark, the sun not yet risen. He was cocooned on all sides by blankets, his body tucked close against Qui-Gon’s. He remained still, feeling the taller man’s chest move with each deep breath, their bodies tangled close, Qui-Gon’s arms around him. It was significantly closer than how it had been the last time they had shared the same sleeping area. Obi-Wan felt he should’ve been bothered. He was a private, rather taciturn man yet, the warmth of another’s body felt soothing and thrilling at the same time. The fact that it was Qui-Gon made the conflicting sensations that much stronger.

He listened to the man breathe in the dark, unable to ignore that the comfort he took from being held by the other Jedi was largely connected to how he felt. It was so difficult to keep denying his emotions, to bury them without even acknowledging their meaning. He turned his head slightly, daringly laying his cheek more firmly against Qui-Gon’s sternum, their arms surrounding one another. Here, in the dark closeness of the tent he could consider for a moment the possibilities of neither of them being Jedi, of having the freedom to ask for what he deeply wanted and could never speak of.

* * *

Morning came coldly, Obi-Wan standing near the edge of where they had camped, the wind cutting against his skin. It felt worse than before, if only because he had adapted to the encompassing warmth of the tent and the nearness of the other Jedi in the night. The pain of his longing mingled with a strange stillness that had settled over him as he stood alone, his hands at his side, his hood pushed back despite the sharp chill in the air.

He stared at the small shape of VHOSH/ay, barely discernable in the fading darkness. The first rays of daybreak rose over the mountains in the distance, the frozen vapor of his breath a visible mist. The valley below took on a strange altered beauty as the overcast sky glowed at the horizon. It was still dark on the mountain, still so cold.

Footsteps came behind him, he tilted his head but did not turn to look as he felt Qui-Gon stop near his side, the man close in the half-darkness. The Force was there between them, drawing inward hungrily on that connection that they could both sense. Obi-Wan looked out over the land before him, the world’s shadow pulling back as dawn began, snow giving way to dirt and brown grassland. The warmth of the sun could not reach him, yet the rising of it felt as if it were in his heart.

He looked up at Qui-Gon who met his gaze, his expression tender, still filled with the contentment of whatever he had dreamt when his body was close to Obi-Wan’s, warm and loose-limbed from sleep. His eyes were very blue. Obi-Wan inhaled, feeling the raw edges of desire as neither from him, nor apart from him, so interconnected were their Force presences.

The sky was lighting as a whole now, a pale wash of color visible, shadows lifting and Obi-Wan stepped closer, touching where an arrow of light fell along Qui-Gon’s shoulder. His hand did not seem to be his hand, his touch not quite his touch. He was aware of his own need tumbling through him, his eyes searching Qui-Gon’s face intently, memorizing each detail. The older Jedi looked back at him, reaching to fold a large hand over Obi-Wan’s forearm which shook slightly, the smaller man’s body trembling in the cold dawn. There was nothing Obi-Wan could say, he did not have the right words. He never did.

He moved closer, their bodies almost touching, Qui-Gon’s long hair shifting in the constant wind, brushing Obi-Wan’s cheek and throat. The moment between them stretched out, unbroken until Obi-Wan lifted his head and lightly kissed the corner of Qui-Gon’s mouth. He felt the older man startle but before Obi-Wan could pull away Qui-Gon had turned his head and captured Obi-Wan’s mouth boldly.

A large hand touched Obi-Wan’s collar, cold fingers hesitantly sliding to where the skin along his neck was still visible, caressing the pale flesh with a callused thumb before moving to cradle the back of the smaller man’s skull. The morning song of the mountain thrushes echoed faintly in the distance. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, something in him surrendering to the peace of the beginning day and the desolate beauty of the mountain.

Strong fingers brushed up through the back of Obi-Wan’s short hair, carding through the thick auburn strands with equal reverence and need. Qui-Gon’s mouth was wet and welcoming, the stronger man pulling him closer so their bodies were flush against one another. The sudden passion should have alarmed Obi-Wan and yet it felt good and right and safe to stay like this indefinitely.

The Force rushed between them, a vast ocean drawing them deeper to one another as the yearning within rose so to become an almost sweet pain in Obi-Wan’s chest, his breaths low and ragged as Qui-Gon kissed him intently. His arms were around the man, his mouth opening to Qui-Gon’s instinctively, his whole body humming with the strength of the connection between them. They separated to draw breath, Obi-Wan opening his eyes.

They stared at one another, the closeness suddenly jarring, too much. Obi-Wan stepped back and Qui-Gon let him go instantly. Qui-Gon’s eyes were wide, startled, but unafraid. Their breathing was unsteady, the faint sound of birds difficult to bear now and Obi-Wan looked away, too confused to speak, his limbs still shaky with desire that he knew he should feel shame over and yet did not.

The warmth of the morning sun was on him now but he could not feel it, could not feel anything but his own racing pulse and the whirling motion of their Force connection. Obi-Wan swallowed, turning away and beginning to disassemble the tent.

* * *

They did not speak the rest of the morning, Obi-Wan too unsure to meet Qui-Gon’s eyes. He knew the man was watching him at times, the Force noticeably muted as they had both raised mental shields to block the now vivid link between them. Everything had shifted out of place and Obi-Wan did not know if it was better or worse to have given in to his desire, no matter how momentarily it had been.

Obi-Wan knew the rules of the Temple, he had memorized every stricture of the code long ago, determined never to fail and yet…he had done so magnificently in Qui-Gon’s arms. He had broken the law of attachments and betrayed the Force by allowing his attraction and love for the other Jedi to take precedence over his heart. It did not matter that the Force had drawn him to Qui-Gon from the very beginning, that it was still drawing him to the other man. Their lives, their futures were separate, they had no other choice but to forget what had happened. He closed his eyes. It was the way it had to be.

The mission was what they had to focus on and Obi-Wan returned to the investigation with relief that he had something to distract him. They walked only for an hour before spreading out to examine their surroundings. The rocky ledges of the path were gone and a vast smooth sloped part of the mountain lay before them. Qui-Gon began scanning the snow while Obi-Wan moved several feet away to plot out the exact route that K’atou might have taken.

The sun shone down on them, surprisingly bright compared to the last few days. Obi-Wan did not need to keep his hood up, the wind much less forceful on this part of the mountainside. Some of the snow was melting on the surface, wetting his gloves as he crouched to examine the path. Centuries of travelers had carved a route clearly visible around the side of the mountain, but the lack of any evidence so far was disturbing. Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder at the path behind them, a light breeze ruffling his hair. He had known instinctively that K’atou had not traveled this path, it was too simple for the senator to attempt if the man was hoping to win favor with his own people. Yet, he had insisted they investigate both paths and that had led to other…situations.

He bit his lip, straightening up and glancing over in Qui-Gon’s direction where the man was scanning their surroundings. K’atou’s senator records had not listed his reasons for why the Senator had chosen to climb Vhosh mountain alone or why he had not chosen to travel the easier route. The likelihood of him being alive was very low. Obi-Wan sighed, wishing the whole mission was over. In truth, the investigation was a mere formality, previous search parties had already concluded that K’atou had probably died. The fact that his body had not been found was the only confirmation still needed. The Livostens had not been friendly, but they did not strike Obi-Wan as having any incentive to murder or kidnap K’atou. The mission had been an assignment to see how well Obi-Wan worked in a leadership role with another Jedi. Clearly, he had failed there as well.

A noise came in the distance, and Obi-Wan paused, seeing Qui-Gon do the same. They glanced over at one another, sharing a wordless look. It was not the howl of the vrakray, nor the wind. It was a low steady roar, the ground trembling beneath their feet. Obi-Wan turned, looking up at the mountain where the sound came from. A strange cloud at the top obscured his vision and he blinked, eyes widening as he realized suddenly what was happening. A massive white rush of snow thundered down the rocky mountainside, sliding toward the clearing they stood in, moving too fast to fully take in. He met Qui-Gon’s gaze, saw his own shock and fear reflected there.

Without thinking, Obi-Wan threw himself forward, knowing Qui-Gon was in the direct path of the avalanche. A surge of pure Force energy hit him and flung him backward just as the wave of snow struck. The ground shuddered beneath him and fell away in a whirl of white and unbearable sound. Obi-Wan felt himself lifted and pushed as if he were weightless, a wall of snow muffled his cry as rock debris struck him in the tumult. He tried to curl inward, to protect his limbs and prevent suffocation as the snow slammed into him. And then it was gone, the crushing fury of it moving past him. Light was visible enough that he began to dig, frantic at the sudden hollow emptiness of the connection between him and Qui-Gon.

He broke through a thick layer of snow, gasping raggedly in cold lungfuls of air, as he pulled himself up enough to stagger to his feet. The ground was a twisted path of rock and snow, contorted by the mass movement. There was no sign of Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan drew in a breath, dizzy with pain and fear. He stumbled toward where Qui-Gon had been.

The last few seconds ran through his mind continuously. Qui-Gon had sacrificed his chance to move out of the path of the avalanche to Force-push Obi-Wan to safety. If the man had died…Obi-Wan shook his head, snow melting a icy path along his neck, falling from the folds of his coat as he dropped to his knees where Qui-Gon had last stood and started digging, fingers numb with cold, his heart hammering in his chest.

The avalanche had happened so quickly, there was a chance that it hadn’t pulled Qui-Gon downhill with it. He pushed all of his strength into ripping the snow aside, using the Force to allow himself to dig faster as his muscles began to burn from the strain of the relentless pace. Jedi could hold their breath much longer than most, but it had already been several minutes, Obi-Wan calculated. It was possible he was searching the wrong place as well. The Force was blind to him, that warm glowing connection dark between his and the other Jedi’s mind.

Obi-Wan bit his lower lip hard, remembering with terrible pain how he had turned away after Qui-Gon had kissed him. Why hadn’t he said something then about how he felt? Why had he refused to meet the man’s eyes afterward? A shock jolted through him, displacing his terror and guilt, sweeping all other emotion aside as his gloved hands scraped against fabric. His digging increased, Obi-Wan immediately realizing that he needed to shove the snow back to the right to unbury Qui-Gon’s upper body first. Fingertips grazed the texture of hair and then Qui-Gon’s face was visible, his eyes were closed, his features battered and still.

“No,” Obi-Wan hissed, scraping snow aside viciously.

In seconds he had enough of the man’s throat unburied. He brought his wrist to his mouth, using his teeth to rip open the fasteners of his right glove, unwilling to waste anymore time. He tossed his glove aside and frantically felt for a pulse. His hands were too numb to have much sensation left and Obi-Wan waited several tense seconds before a thready vibration moved into his bare fingers. The tight pain around his chest eased slightly and Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly. Qui-Gon was still alive. He pulled his glove back on and cleared snow and debris away from the man’s torso, unburying Qui-Gon enough to haul the man’s upper body into his arms.

Numbly, Obi-Wan pushed Qui-Gon’s coat aside and felt the ribs and chest, searching for any injuries. Faint relief washed through him as he confirmed no broken bones. A shattered rib could easily puncture a lung, especially if he moved the man. Bruises were already forming over much of Qui-Gon’s visible skin, snow sticking to his beard and eyelashes, coating his hair. He looked like a corpse but Obi-Wan furiously pushed away such thoughts. Qui-Gon was unconscious and he did not know if the man would wake on his own or if there were internal injuries. The scanner Qui-Gon had held was gone and he did not have time to reprogram the equipment that was back at the tent to give a medical readout of how hurt the older man was. Quickly, Obi-Wan felt again for a pulse, this time feeling it through his glove. It was weak but steadier than before. He had to get Qui-Gon back to the village. VHOSH/ay did not have the medical care that most Republic cities did, but they would likely have some type of healer that could prevent Qui-Gon from slipping too deeply into a coma.

Obi-Wan swallowed, the emptiness in the Force a painful lifeless place in his mind. He reached for the man mentally, no longer caring about the Temple’s instructions not to use the Force. He would need to use it if he intended to get down the mountain alive. He could not access the connection that they had been between them, but he could sense briefly when he concentrated that Qui-Gon was still there in some way, blocked by pain and unconsciousness, but there. With a deep breath, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, allowing the Force to flow from him into that place where the connection was closed. Qui-Gon did not wake, but Obi-Wan continued to offer as much energy he could, hoping it would quicken the man’s healing.

He opened his eyes, looking up at the overcast sky, it was impossible to know the exact time without the sun’s position available, but he knew that planetary days on Livost were shorter than Coruscant’s. It was likely mid-afternoon and nightfall came soon to the planet. He would have only a few hours to move Qui-Gon before the vrakray began hunting. It would take nearly that long to reach the valley. Carrying supplies and a man taller and heavier than himself would slow him down.

Obi-Wan checked the settings on his blaster, relieved the weapon had not become damaged in the avalanche. He would leave everything else behind. His blaster and his lightsaber would not weigh him down unnecessarily. Qui-Gon, he would have to carry, as he had neither time nor maneuverability to construct and operate a stretcher. The most difficult part would be climbing down the steep cliffside that he had scaled the day before with Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan set his jaw and gently brushed snow from Qui-Gon’s bruised face, bending to press a kiss to the Jedi’s bloodied brow. He would get the man to safety, no matter what.

* * *

Thankfully, the avalanche did not damage the pathway back. Obi-Wan moved carefully, wind pushing against him, searing his face with an icy vengeance. He had pulled Qui-Gon over his shoulders and back in a standard rescue carry he had learned years ago during padawan training. The other Jedi was not as heavy as he had dreaded but he weighed more than what Obi-Wan could comfortably carry. Still, he pressed on, moving as quickly as he could. He let the Force leak through every mental pathway he held in his mind, the carefully organized system of energy collapsing into something convoluted and organic. He no longer cared if he could not trace where the Force flowed to, it was enough to take some of the strength into himself and to give whatever he could spare to Qui-Gon’s limp form.

As he had thought, the hardest part was scaling down the cliffside with Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan wasted precious seconds stripping the straps along his coat off and using them to help secure Qui-Gon more firmly to him. The other Jedi’s long hair fell into his bruised face, clinging to Obi-Wan’s neck, reminding him of last night when they had slept curled tightly into each other’s warmth. Obi-Wan faltered before steadying his hands, forcing himself to drive everything else out of his mind but getting down the cliff.

He did not have the safety of ropes, nor of another alert presence to keep an eye out for footholds. He moved from memory, pushing his body to accept the pain of pulled muscles, the fear when his boot slipped and met open air. Obi-Wan dragged in ragged breaths, sweat running into his eyes despite the cold. Qui-Gon and him had covered a significant amount of ground in a day of travel, now he had to make the same distance in a few hours.

A low noise startled him so that he almost lost his grip on the ledge he was braced on. For a fleeting moment, Obi-Wan had the wild hope that it was Qui-Gon awakening, but a sharp howl punctured the stillness, the sound loud and extremely chilling. Obi-Wan risked a glance down the steep cliff, clinging to the rockside as that simple movement threatened to unbalance him, the wind shear powerful enough that it took all his strength to fight against it.

The lean strong bodies of vrakray were dark shadows darting over the snow and rock, circling the base of the cliff. Obi-Wan cursed, edging down further as a heavy gust of wind buffeted him. He looked down once more, his hair falling into his eyes as he blinked against the wind. The narrow muzzles of the vrakray pack were parted to show long thin blade-sharp teeth, while dozens of eyes tracked his movements hungrily. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, trying to remember what the Temple data had said about the creatures. Despite his distress and overtaxed mental and physical stamina, the exact information came to him as if lifted from his datapad:_ Vrakray are hound-like predators that hunt primarily in packs, they are not a risk to those scaling Vhosh mountain as they hibernate for the majority of the year._ That was it. No other information had been included because the Temple clearly hadn’t thought the vrakray would be a problem on their mission.

Obi-Wan pressed himself close against the rock, risking letting go with one hand to firmly steady Qui-Gon’s body as another surge of wind hit them. Qui-Gon had said something last night about the vrakray…he tried to think over the howls below him and the exhaustion that was settling in his bones. _They aren’t fond of fire or loud noises_.

With a sound of relief, Obi-Wan braced himself against the cliffside, his free hand falling immediately to the holster strapped against his thigh. He ripped out his blaster, allowing himself only a second to aim as he fired into the snow at the base of the cliff. The loud discharge of the weapon echoed over the mountain and Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, hoping that the now cooler temperature would prevent another avalanche from occurring. The moment the bright laser blast hit the snow the Vrakray scattered. The largest of the creatures streaked away in a rippling flash of dark fur, the rest of the pack following. Obi-Wan waited a few breathless seconds before holstering his blaster and inching his way further down the cliff.

It was near nightfall by the time his feet touched solid ground, his legs almost giving out beneath him as the full weight of Qui-Gon hit his back and shoulders. Obi-Wan longed to examine the other man but did not dare take more time. He still had a steep slope of rock and snow to traverse, the small forest, and then down the valley. He was sure the sound of his blaster had been heard in VHOSH/ay, but he put aside any hope that the villagers would investigate the matter. It was up to him to get Qui-Gon to safety, he would not give up now.

Swaying on his feet and bent slightly against the force of the wind and carrying Qui-Gon’s larger frame, Obi-Wan started down the slope. It was faster, but dangerous going downhill. More than once his feet threatened to slip out from under him, his body numb with cold and exhaustion. The sun was setting, a thin line of red along the horizon as he stumbled his way past boulders that Qui-Gon had scanned the day before. Walking became easier as the slope grew less rocky, the snow thinning out. Obi-Wan could see the few lights of the village now and he increased his pace. He reached for Qui-Gon’s blocked presence, sending healing waves of Force energy to the man as he entered the sparse forest, focusing on the knowledge that the other Jedi was still alive and breathing

There was no birdsong now. The woods were dark, the trees blocking out the little light left. Obi-Wan relied on the Force to guide him through the large pines, his breath leaving him harshly as his legs trembled. Never had he been so close to collapse, the awareness of his own weakness was terrifying but Obi-Wan refused to dwell on it. He was a Jedi, he would not allow his body’s limitations prevent him from bringing Qui-Gon to VHOSH/ay’s medcenter. Still, he felt himself growing distant from his physical distress, relying more and more on the Force to keep upright and moving.

He exited the woods and had taken only a few steps down the hill leading into VHOSH/ay when a dark form leapt from between the trees. Instinctively, Obi-Wan threw himself to the side. Qui-Gon’s body mass pulled him down to the ground, falling free from him, Obi-Wan crumbling to his knees.

Something heavy hit his back, causing him to cry out. Vrakray teeth tore through the protective lining of his coat as if it were nothing, sinking deep into the flesh of his shoulder. Pain surged through his nerves, adrenaline masking the agony as Obi-Wan rolled with the force of the movement, using gravity to dislodge the beast. Obi-Wan yanked his blaster out in one fluid motion as the vrakray growled, jaw wet with Obi-Wan’s blood, dark eyes crazed as it lunged.

There was no time to think, to consider that he was fast losing movement in his arm, Obi-Wan swung the blaster hard, the metal heft of its casing connecting with the vrakray’s muzzle. The animal gave a sharp whine, jolting back only momentarily but it was enough for Obi-Wan’s numb fingers to find the trigger. There was the resound of blasterfire and the acrid smell of burnt fur. Obi-Wan pushed the heavy weight off him with his uninjured arm.

The vrakray was still alive, slender paws churning helplessly, eyes wide. Obi-Wan staggered to his feet, setting his blaster against the creature’s bony skull and shooting once more to end its pain. Howls came from the shadowed forest but no other vrakray approached and Obi-Wan wearily concluded that he must have killed the pack leader.

He stumbled toward Qui-Gon. The back of his dark coat was warm and wet and he could not feel the blaster he gripped. Clumsily he shoved it into his holster, hissing at the pain that laced up his back. He could smell his own blood. Obi-Wan almost collapsed as he knelt by Qui-Gon. He took a few harsh breaths, head bowed, eyes staring blankly at the brown frozen grass. He wasn’t sure how bad the bite was. If he was bleeding out, it was slow enough that he likely still had a few hours before losing conscious. VHOSH/ay was so close. He reached out with a trembling hand, touching Qui-Gon’s still face. He was the mission leader, he would not consider this a defeat.

With strength he did not know he had, Obi-Wan used his one good arm to heave Qui-Gon’s limp form back over his shoulders. His vision darkened and he bit his lower lip hard enough for blood to wet his mouth. The pain was terrible, Qui-Gon’s weight pressed against his wounded shoulder and Obi-Wan reached desperately for the Force, trying to separate himself from what he was feeling. He somehow made it to his feet and from there he had no choice but to continue into the valley.

It was night, but some villagers were still outside when Obi-Wan entered VHOSH/ay. He reflected dully that it was likely the sound of him shooting the vrakray that had caused them to remain alert, some clutching weapons. Obi-Wan staggered but kept upright as he walked through the main village path, ignoring the stares turned his way. He knew from the Temple’s data where the small medcenter in the village was but it meant having to walk deeper into VHOSH/ay. Villagers were exiting their homes, watching him, but no offer of help came.

Obi-Wan breathed tightly, aware of the burning pain in his shoulder surging all through him. He was dazed with fatigue and blood loss and even in the bright torchlight of the village he could feel his vision blurring slightly, his mind desperate to leave the pain inside his body. Someone must have gone ahead to warn the medcenter for when he reached the small wooden building he was met by a formidable looking Livosten, the man’s bulging forearms crossed over his long black coat, his expression cold as he stood blocking the door to the medcenter.

Obi-Wan stopped, swaying. He could sense that most of the villagers had followed. A small crowd surrounded him. Still, he cared nothing for them or their thoughts. Qui-Gon was what mattered. With one arm, Obi-Wan awkwardly slid Qui-Gon from his injured back, going to his knees and gently lying the unconscious Jedi on the ground. He looked up at the man standing in front of the medcenter, recognizing the small insignia on the man’s coat that clarified him as a Republic certified medic.

“Shul’var ki,” Obi-Wan rasped out the words in Livosti, his breath tight with pain. _Help me._

“We do not have room,” the medic responded callously in Basic, his face twisted, dark with hate.

Obi-Wan stared at the man, drawing in sharp inhales, trying to steady his wavering vision. Something was building in the Force, he could feel it there, trying to edge through the pain. Slowly he rose to his feet, legs trembling under him.

“He was buried in an avalanche,” Obi-Wan spoke numbly, large green-blue eyes wide, pupils dilated by the effort it took to remain standing, “he won’t wake.” He shook his head, blood running freely from his split lip, “he won’t wake,” he repeated helplessly.

The medic glanced toward the silent crowd than back at Obi-Wan, his expression hard. Finally, he relented slightly, large fists clenching at his sides, “Leave him here, we will see to him.”

Perhaps it was his own mind, clouded with agony and weariness, but Obi-Wan felt the warning there beneath the words. He knew with sudden certainty that he could not leave Qui-Gon alone in the medcenter. The medic’s hatred was beyond the gestures or scorn of the other villagers. The man looked at the still form of Qui-Gon the way the vrakray had looked at Obi-Wan when attacking him.

“I have –“ Obi-Wan swallowed back the blood in his mouth, “I have to stay with him.”

The medic’s eyes narrowed and there was noise from the crowd. Obi-Wan stood with his back to them, the sharp stinging scent of lit torches flooded through his senses, the cold air brutal, unending. That feeling in the Force was still there, sparking to life at the medic’s silent refusal.

“You will allow me to be with him!” Obi-Wan insisted roughly, taking an unsteady step forward. The healer turned aside in clear denial, gesturing toward a few villagers who entered the medcenter behind him, returning moments later with a stretcher, their movements resentful but obedient.

“Only family is allowed to be present. You are obviously not related –”

Obi-Wan was too tired to care about the man’s dismissal. That rising churning sensation in the Force filled him with burning warmth. Anger, he registered the emotion numbly but he was past the point of dwelling on why he welcomed such a feeling. The villagers were hauling Qui-Gon carelessly onto the stretcher with no regard for his condition, the taller Jedi’s head falling limply to the side at the rough movement. Obi-Wan started toward them, his fury suddenly having purpose. Something about his expression, or perhaps merely that he was now soaked in his own blood, caused the villagers to stand quickly, backing away. Obi-Wan halted, looking down at Qui-Gon laid out in the stretcher, a few lone flakes of snow settling on the man’s skin. He lifted his head.

“He’s my husband.” He stated emphatically.

Shocked murmurs came from the crowd. The medic recoiled slightly with revulsion. _“What?”_ he hissed.

“We’re married. I will not leave his side,” Obi-Wan said firmly, allowing anger to fill his voice, lending a hard edge of truth to his words.

“Such depravity is not known on Livost,” The medic spat out, his dark eyes narrowed. The crowd was uneasy with their own disgust and Obi-Wan knew instinctively that he could no longer afford to show signs of weakness or fear in front of the Livostens. He rallied what energy he had left, lifting his chin to meet the medic’s gaze.

“We are citizens of the Republic, by galactic law you are required to allow me to stay with my partner.”

The medic’s expression tightened with loathing, he seemed about to say something when the full weight of Obi-Wan’s anger broke free and Obi-Wan took two unsteady strides forward, tangling fists in the medic’s dark coat and shoving him against the medcenter door with all his strength.

“I did not carry this man down Vhosh mountain to have him die because of your prejudice,” He hissed, eyes burning in his pale face.

He was aware that he was more than a foot smaller than the other man and a good deal lighter but he did not care. Rage had never been a sensation Obi-Wan knew with familiarity but now it filled him, more powerful than an exploding star. He would not allow Qui-Gon to die. The medic moved to speak, the crowd stirring. Obi-Wan slammed the man up against the wood again, uncaring how the sensation jolted through his injured shoulder or the way his vision was dimming once more,

“You _will_ help him,” he commanded coldly.

Slowly, the medic nodded and Obi-Wan released him. He stumbled back a step, the crowd quickly backing away. Pain was a part of him now, hinged to his insides so he did not know when it would end or what would make it stop. He was stunned by his own exhaustion, his fear, his rage. Everything that a Jedi should not feel had taken over him. He did not care. He reached for the stretcher that was being wordlessly lifted, his fingers finding Qui-Gon’s and holding on, allowing that to guide him into the medcenter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn’t love an accidental-on-purpose-marriage?! Also our beautiful ship making out in front of the sunrise, Obi-Wan single-handedly rescuing Qui-Gon, and then finally Obi-Wan just having enough of everyone’s incompetence…
> 
> As you’ve probably noticed, each fic I write (particularly longer fics) often have very slightly different versions of Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon. I really wanted to write a fic where Obi-Wan is the awesome, intellectual badass we know and love, but is also a little awkward and doesn’t always understand social cues. I have friends and family who have various social anxieties or autism/aspergers that make it difficult for them to converse easily or seem approachable. It doesn’t mean they aren’t amazing people who are kind, funny, and brilliant, it just means they may not find it as easy as other people do to interact in social settings. I wanted to write an Obi-Wan who occasionally has word-finding difficulties and isn’t always the most tactful at times, and while Qui-Gon might not fully understand, he is very accepting of who Obi-Wan is; which as always is so important for me to convey every time that I write this ship.
> 
> I’m very curious to see what everyone thinks of this chapter. I know you are probably all eagerly waiting for the next one but things at my job have become extremely busy so the next (and final) chapter will be posted probably closer to the 21st.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here is the final chapter for Affinity, I’m very happy that so many people have liked it. Your comments and kudos mean so much to me! Qui-Gon’s pov here. :)

Light came, so bright that Qui-Gon could not at first open his eyes. His body ached, muscles suddenly taut at the cold and the white intensity of light. Images surged through the Force, disjointed, unclear. _The fury of the avalanche engulfing him, birds singing, the soft pressure of a mouth against his own…._ The last memory jolted warmth within his mind, sinking into his bones, the light pulling at him so that he blinked, eyes slowly opening.

It took longer than it should have for him to realize that the brightness came from the room he was in. The smell of smoke was nearby and he distantly remembered that Livostens heated their rooms with fireplaces. He stared up at a wooden ceiling, the light dulling as his vision cleared fully, shapes reforming into the gray interior of a Livosten room.

He was lying down, a thin blanket pulled over him, his torso bare. His body was cold except for a patch of warmth on his forearm. Slowly, Qui-Gon turned his head, cataloging any residual pain or injuries that would have caused him to fall unconscious. Had the avalanche happened or had that only been a dream? He remembered clearly watching the sun rising on the mountain, but what had come afterward must have been an illusion. It was forbidden to even consider.

His eyes flickered from the ceiling down to the gray blanket pulled over him and then to the side of the bed. Qui-Gon’s breath caught. Obi-Wan was there, looking rather small in a large Livosten chair that he had pulled up to Qui-Gon’s bedside. His upper body was partially on the bed, his head pillowed on his arms as he slept. One hand laid over Qui-Gon’s lower right arm in a protective gesture. His face was turned away but Qui-Gon could not mistake the man for anyone else.

The Force felt different, overwhelmed yet somehow still desiring more as Obi-Wan’s presence suffused his own. Qui-Gon could feel energy flowing into him from the younger man, their minds connected too intimately to speak of. Without thinking, he reached out with his left hand to touch Obi-Wan’s hand, awed.

Instantly the younger man awoke, his head lifting from his arms. He looked very different than their first meeting. His face was unshaven, his thick hair tousled, falling heavily into his eyes and sticking up oddly in places. It looked especially red in the firelight. Their eyes met and Obi-Wan started. The exhaustion on his face was washed away by sudden relief, shockingly vivid for the somber man that Qui-Gon knew. He moved quickly, favoring his shoulder slightly as he stood, stepping close to the head of the bed. He stared at Qui-Gon for a long time, his blue-green eyes so bright with happiness that Qui-Gon could only stare back, remembering all over again the feel of the other man’s mouth. The door opened suddenly and Obi-Wan tensed, turning and facing the Livosten who stepped in.

Qui-Gon had forgotten how much taller Livostens were than most humanoids. The woman watching them seemed to make the very room smaller with her icy disapproval. She jerked her head in Qui-Gon’s direction, dropping a pile of fabric at the end of the bed.

“His scans are acceptable,” she spoke harshly, if haltingly, in thickly accented Basic, “there is no need to stay.”

“We will leave when we wish,” Obi-Wan responded coldly. His outward appearance, despite his disarray, seemed unaffected by the Livosten’s repulsed glare but Qui-Gon saw that Obi-Wan’s hands were balled into fists, the Force humming with the man’s apprehension.

The woman did not reply, merely turning on her heel and leaving. Obi-Wan exhaled at her departure and ran fingers through his hair, his earlier exhaustion much more apparent. He moved stiffly as if in pain, but his gaze was perceptive as he turned, studying Qui-Gon. Something…a hesitance, perhaps was there in the Force connection between them now, Obi-Wan biting his lower lip without knowing it. The gesture was oddly alluring and Qui-Gon felt a heavy thread of desire shiver through the connection between them. It startled both of them so that they stared at one another. Qui-Gon opened his mouth to speak when Obi-Wan interrupted him quickly.

“We’re married.”

Qui-Gon blinked before raising an eyebrow, more confused than ever. “I don’t recall a ceremony,” he remarked dryly, unsure of what to even say to such a statement.

Surprisingly, Obi-Wan almost smiled, relief and sweetness visible in the brief gesture. He sank back down in the overlarge chair, studying his hands, which Qui-Gon noticed were bruised and cut in several places.

“I told them we were, when I brought you here,” Obi-Wan glanced over at him, gaze intent once more, all trace of humor suddenly gone from the room.

“The avalanche…” Qui-Gon could not ask further, not sure if he should bring up the events beforehand, unclear what was real or not. He had only distant images of the snow surging toward them and of using the Force to push Obi-Wan out of danger. Much more vivid were the memories of how it had felt to hold Obi-Wan against him and the way Obi-Wan had gasped slightly into his mouth when they had kissed.

“You were injured,” Obi-Wan answered hoarsely, tiredly pushing his long bangs back once more, “I unburied you and used the Force to try to stabilize your condition but I couldn’t wake you. I carried you down the mountain, I had to leave everything behind to get you to the village in time. The Medcenter wouldn’t accept you at first…I was angry and afraid,” He hesitated, obviously expecting some sort of rebuke for his confession of emotion but Qui-Gon reached out, lying a hand comfortingly on Obi-Wan’s arm, silently gesturing for him to continue.

“They wouldn’t let me stay with you unless I was family, so I told them we were married,” Obi-Wan murmured, still looking down at his hands. “I didn’t know what they would do to you if I wasn’t there to make sure – I couldn’t think of how else –“ he broke off and sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, looking up finally to meet Qui-Gon’s eyes again.

Seeing Obi-Wan so tired and uncertain, disheveled from concern and lack of sleep, made it impossible for Qui-Gon to feel anything but compassion toward the man.

“How official is this marriage?” he asked quietly.

Obi-Wan worried his lower lip again, greenish eyes glancing away, “most of the Livostens don’t seem to believe that it’s possible that a marriage between two men would be sanctioned. I thought they might check our identification records so I hacked into the galactic database of Republic Archives and changed our marriage status on our official identification documents.”

The words hung between them and Qui-Gon frowned, regarding Obi-Wan closely. He had not thought the other Jedi capable of risking such a crime as hacking into a government database merely to uphold a lie meant to ensure Qui-Gon’s safety. But then, Obi-Wan had somehow carried him down Vhosh Mountain, unaided in a matter of hours. Qui-Gon would have died without the man’s resilience and resourcefulness. The fact that it meant they were now quite legally married was hardly upsetting when considering what might have happened had Obi-Wan not been there.

“How long have I been unconscious?” he asked, deliberately changing the subject as he shifted slowly into an upright position.

The blanket fell to his waist and Qui-Gon looked down, surveying the yellowing bruises along the muscle of his bare torso, mentally cataloguing what would still need treatment. That subtle sensation of desire and shyness echoed in the Force and Qui-Gon saw that Obi-Wan was averting his eyes at the sudden exposure of Qui-Gon’s skin, almost blushing.

Surprise and faint pleasure rose in Qui-Gon at the realization that his body, which he had never thought much of before, was somehow attractive to Obi-Wan. Perhaps it had been for awhile, only now with the Force connecting them, Obi-Wan couldn’t entirely shield his emotions nor did he seem to want to any longer. For all his shyness there was assertiveness as well in the way Obi-Wan stood, reaching for the bundle of cloth left at the foot of the bed.

“It’s been three days,” Obi-Wan said quietly, he held out the fabric and Qui-Gon realized it was his clothing from earlier.

Obi-Wan stepped closer, pulling an undershirt from the pile and handing it to Qui-Gon only to help the man into it when Qui-Gon winced slightly as he moved his bruised arms. It was strangely intriguing and much less painful to have someone help dress him. Obi-Wan moved with a methodic sort of gentleness, suddenly full of patience as he slipped Qui-Gon’s shirt on, fastening clasps and carefully making sure any injuries were bandaged or treated before moving onto the next piece of clothing.

“Were my injuries severe?” Qui-Gon murmured, holding still as Obi-Wan felt along his ribs where the bruising was still dark. Obi-Wan looked up, his stern expression softened by the concern visible in his green-blue eyes. His fingers were warm against Qui-Gon’s skin and his touch so light that there was no pain.

“A cracked rib,” Obi-Wan replied softly, “quite a lot of bruising as well. They didn’t register any internal injuries. It is likely that the shock of the impact is what knocked you unconscious and the fact that you had just unleashed a large amount of Force energy,” he gave Qui-Gon a look as if scolding him before continuing speaking, “I wasn’t sure how bad it was at first. I still don’t think you would have woken on your own, had we stayed at our camp. Even if we had, you would have been severely dehydrated and disoriented once awake.”

“So, you brought me down the mountain,” Qui-Gon said,

“Yes,” Obi-Wan stated firmly, smoothing out the fabric over the older Jedi’s shoulders, his gaze never leaving Qui-Gon’s.

How easy it would be to kiss Obi-Wan again, how much Qui-Gon wanted to. Instead, he stood, swaying only slightly, Obi-Wan steadying him.

“We have to go back,” he said and Obi-Wan stepped away, watching him intently.

He thought the man might argue, in a way, Qui-Gon almost wanted him too. They were both exhausted and still adjusting to the connection between them, and Obi-Wan was unsuccessfully concealing pain. The desire to lie back down and sleep was nearly overwhelming. Yet the mission came first, K’atou’s remains had not yet been found, nor proof of what had happened to him.

“The avalanche could have concealed valuable evidence,” Obi-Wan said, clearly sensing the direction of Qui-Gon’s thoughts. He knelt to help Qui-Gon with his boots, “we lost our datascanner and some of the surveillance tools as well,”

Qui-Gon pushed his long graying hair back impatiently, wincing at how tangled it was, “the tent should still be standing, at least,” he remarked, stilling as Obi-Wan stood, their bodies suddenly very close to one another.

They both paused. Obi-Wan glanced up, his large eyes briefly meeting Qui-Gon’s. It was impossible to hide longing in the Force, or the way Qui-Gon’s heartbeat quickened as Obi-Wan tilted his head, untidy hair felling forward across his brow once more. Without intending to, Qui-Gon reached out, touching that dust-flame colored hair, brushing it out of Obi-Wan’s eyes. Obi-Wan swallowed, looking up at him steadily now. Neither of them spoke. The Force was humming between them, urging them on, yet even this was so much that Qui-Gon lingered in it. He stroked Obi-Wan’s hair lightly, astounded that he had the freedom to do so, that Obi-Wan would lean subtly into his touch, his own hands coming to settle at Qui-Gon’s waist. What they were to one another, he did not know anymore. It hardly seemed to matter to define themselves out loud when their Force presences so easily melded together.

* * *

They left the medcenter at what passed for midday on Livost. Qui-Gon was relieved to leave the village behind them, despite knowing that the climb back up the mountain would be that much more difficult with their healing injuries. The only supplies he had with him now was his lightsaber which he kept concealed in his coat, unsure if the Livostens would recognize it for what it was. Obi-Wan moved in front of him once they left the medcenter, leading the way. Villagers watched with scorn as they walked down the path leading out into the valley, the Livostens’ hatred so intense that Qui-Gon felt it as a suffocating pressure in the Force.

He kept his expression blank, his eyes on Obi-Wan’s back, attempting to ignore the way their bleak surroundings were worsened by the animosity in every face that turned toward them. Obi-Wan stopped suddenly on the worn path, his hair ruffling in the harsh wind slicing through the village. Qui-Gon paused at the man’s side, unsure at the younger Jedi’s faltering, only to feel his entire body warm as Obi-Wan reached over decisively and took his hand. Murmurs of outrage and disgust echoed from the staring Livostens, but Obi-Wan merely looked straight ahead and continued down the path. They walked hand in hand out of the village, not letting go even when VHOSH/ay faded into the distance.

Qui-Gon had never considered being this close to someone. As a Jedi, romances were forbidden, he had not contemplated what it would feel like to hold Obi-Wan’s hand, to touch the man freely, or to be kissed. Now, every contact between them sparked with promise.

Obi-Wan strode in the sure motions of a Jedi but Qui-Gon could feel a tension in the man’s movements, a favoring of his right shoulder as he gripped Qui-Gon’s hand. There were no singing birds in the woods ahead and Qui-Gon wondered at Obi-Wan’s sudden hesitance as they skirted around the bloodied carcass of a killed vrakray near the forest edge. He glanced at the animal as they passed, pausing so that they let go of each other’s hands. Obi-Wan turned, brow knit in confusion at the abrupt halt.

The cold had frozen the remains of the vrakray against the brown dead grass, its bloodied eyes staring blankly at nothing. There was no mistaking the telltale signs of blasterfire damage along the vrakray’s stomach and skull. He looked over at Obi-Wan who met his curious gaze with that same deep weariness Qui-Gon had glimpsed when first awakening in the medcenter.

“It was their leader,” Obi-Wan spoke shortly as if he were in the middle of a conversation, “they tried attacking when I brought you down from the mountain. I thought I had scared them off, but this one came back. I didn’t sense it until too late. I had to protect you.”

Qui-Gon frowned, looking up from the blood-tinged grass, studying Obi-Wan closely. “Are you hurt?” he asked and Obi-Wan’s sudden avoidance of his eyes told him what the man didn’t want to admit to out loud.

“It’s been treated,” Obi-Wan finally replied, turning back toward the forest before them, “we should hurry, we need to reach camp before nightfall.”

* * *

The climb up the mountainside was slower than either one of them would have preferred, both pausing as strained muscles and recent injuries protested each handhold they pulled themselves toward. Yet, there were ways that the pain brought its own sort of relief, Qui-Gon recognizing his limitations as only temporary, feeling when his healing body was ready to push forward more and when he needed to conserve his strength.

He could not hide his concern though as Obi-Wan climbed slowly near him, the pain in the smaller man’s shoulder causing a strange echo of sensation in their shared connection. Whatever treatment that Obi-Wan had received for his injury obviously hadn’t been enough and Qui-Gon found himself pausing more and more to give Obi-Wan time to climb toward the few ledges that offered support.

Their lighthearted conversation from the same climb a few days ago seemed years away, the wind scouring at them, whipping snow into their faces so that Qui-Gon had difficulty seeing the next ledge. He could not fathom how Obi-Wan had managed the climb down carrying him.

They kept going, Obi-Wan’s jaw set tightly, the Force drawing inward around him as each motion sent that reverberation of pain through the link between them. Qui-Gon longed to reach out, if not physically, at least with the Force to soothe the other man, but his grasp of the Force was still unsteady after how much he had unleashed when he had pushed Obi-Wan out of the path of the avalanche.

Finally, they crested the wall, clumsily climbing through deep snow, both unable to hide their relief at being on solid ground once more. Qui-Gon brushed the snow from his face, feeling it cling to his beard and hair. The howling wind made conversation impossible, Obi-Wan pulling his hood of his coat up and frowning into the flurry that swirled around them. They needed to return to the tent and salvage what they could, it was too dangerous to attempt navigating an unfamiliar path in a snowstorm now.

They moved as one toward the path they had taken earlier, all designation of leadership discarded. The connection between them drew now on both of their strength, ebbing and flowing with the Force. There were ways to break it or at least shield from its power but Qui-Gon was pleased that Obi-Wan was as reluctant as he was to close himself off to such contact.

It was fortunate that the avalanche had not done more damage to the mountainside. The path they had taken a few days ago remained clear and familiar, both of them walking carefully along the narrow ledge. Qui-Gon stepped around boulders jutting from the landscape, the ground before them especially treacherous to travel with snow whipping against them.

They stayed close to one another as visibility worsened, both pausing often near wind-stripped trees to try to gauge how far they’d walked. It was near evening now, the storm making the cloud cover darker than usual so that it was becoming difficult to see their surroundings at all.

Obi-Wan stopped suddenly, his dark gray coat quickly turning white as snow fell thickly. Qui-Gon paused near his side, exhaling at the familiar tilt to the rocky ground. They climbed upward a few feet, Obi-Wan nearly losing his balance a few times before they reached the rock ledge that erosion had carved out of the side of the mountain. They had set up camp far enough back on the ledge that the avalanche had not even shifted the placement of the tent. Even the blizzard wasn’t as terrible here with the protection of the rock overhang. Neither of them spoke, exhaustion and relief shifting through the Force so that they both circled the tent, brushing snow back from the sides, searching for the opening.

The suddenness of leaving the howling storm and returning to a dark, albeit temporary, home was comforting if surreal. Qui-Gon crawled into the small tent, followed by Obi-Wan who quickly resealed the opening as Qui-Gon felt for their supplies in the dark. The portable hydrolight was still packed in his bag that he had left in the corner of the tent. He scraped snow from his collar and damp hair, dumping it into the miniature canister’s cycler. Instantly, the canister lit up and Qui-Gon unhooked the latch on the side, hanging it from the center of the tent ceiling. A low humming came from the machine as it ran, bathing them in a soft glow.

“We should save its energy,” Obi-Wan remarked, brushing the worst of the snow from his clothing. Qui-Gon nodded, although neither of them moved to turn the hydrolight off.

Water was the machine’s main source of fuel and there was plenty of moisture that the cycler could pull from the air in the snow-heavy environment to keep it running without complication. He knew though that Obi-Wan was thinking of the hydrolight’s other feature as a flare to summon help if they ran into another life-threatening situation. The considerable power that a flare would take would likely burn out the hydrolight and Qui-Gon didn’t think it would be any use at gaining aid from the Livostens anyway. He had no idea how Obi-Wan had managed to get their assistance earlier.

He looked over at the younger man, suddenly filled with tenderness as Obi-Wan shook snow from his hair, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes tiredly. The pain in the man’s shoulder was a sensory throb in his own, the Force linking them closer, flooding their souls.

“Come here,” Qui-Gon said softly, “let me look at your injury.”

Obi-Wan lifted his head, turning slightly in his direction. The wind whistled loud outside, tugging at the walls of the tent. The soft white glow of the hydrolight caught the paleness of Obi-Wan’s skin, the brightness of his unusual eye color. He was so handsome. Qui-Gon’s breath caught as the younger man crawled over to him in the low-ceilinged tent. The area was so small that he could easily reach for the few medical supplies he’d brought, distracting himself with searching for bandaging, shy suddenly as Obi-Wan began to peel layers off slowly.

He thought of that morning, Obi-Wan helping him dress and now the reverse occurring, with him reaching automatically to help Obi-Wan remove the several thick shirts the man wore for warmth, knowing any rotation of the man’s shoulder meant pain. Obi-Wan pulled the last thin thermal undertunic off, shivering, his back to Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon stared, inhaling sharply at the sight. His eyes traced the gashes ripped through flesh, the pale smoothness of Obi-Wan’s back discoloring into raw damage. He reached out, laying a hand on Obi-Wan’s upper shoulder very lightly. The slash of skin beneath his fingertips was only roughly healed, the marks deep, torn open across the expanse of the right shoulder blade. He thought of the carcass of the vrakray that had done this to Obi-Wan, shocked that the man had still managed to carry him into the village after being hurt so badly. Gently, he touched the wounds, needing to feel the risks Obi-Wan had taken to bring him to safety and to stay with him through the whole time, regardless of injury or exhaustion.

Obi-Wan tilted his head but did not look at him, his muscles tight with pain. His discarded snow-dampened clothing was wet against Qui-Gon’s skin as the older Jedi reached past it for the tin of salve and bandages. He doubted the Livostens had healed Obi-Wan very much beyond stopping the bleeding. Some of the deeper gashes had been haphazardly sealed, but there had obviously not been anything else done. Qui-Gon dipped fingers into the salve, moving as carefully as possible as he touched Obi-Wan’s back.

He slid salve over the wounds, inspecting the gashes closely for any sign of infection. The salve would cleanse the injuries and speed up the healing process but it would need to be applied often. He had a few bacta patches as well and knew that would help a good deal more than whatever supplies the Livostens had in the village. He felt Obi-Wan tense at his touch, hissing slightly at the sting of the salve. Qui-Gon murmured a few words of comfort, running a hand without thinking across the man’s uninjured arm.

Suddenly he was overwhelmingly aware of the feel of warm skin beneath his hands, of Obi-Wan’s breathing, of the way the smaller Jedi leaned into his touch, welcoming it silently. The melting snow had left a trail of dampness on their clothing and hair, the dim light in the tent drawing to the paleness of Obi-Wan’s torso.

Obi-Wan was lightly freckled along the shoulders. The light swaying above their heads showed the faint dusting of them down across the spine. Qui-Gon wanted to put his mouth there. The desire didn’t shock him this time, but he did not dare acknowledge it yet. Obi-Wan turned his head a bit, his face in profile, his expression wistful and exhausted.

Qui-Gon focused on the man’s pain, doing what he could to treat the wounds, sealing a large bacta patch over the majority of the gashes. He expected Obi-Wan to complain about ‘wasting’ supplies but he noticed with that same surge of tenderness as earlier that Obi-Wan was already half-asleep.

His own body ached from their physical exertion so soon after being healed and Qui-Gon fumbled tiredly for the blankets left in a heap at one side. He calibrated their thermal settings and helped a sleepy Obi-Wan pull on a few layers of shirts to protect the man’s bare torso from the terrible cold. He could not avoid noticing the softness of the other man’s skin, the slender muscle and paleness of Obi-Wan’s upper body. Faint freckles scattered here as well, more visible on the shoulders and arms, fading into sparse near-invisible marks across the chest and stomach. A small scar on his upper left hip drew Qui-Gon’s eyes and he reached without thinking to touch it.

Obi-Wan blinked tiredly, giving him that same small, almost secretive, smile from earlier. Qui-Gon blushed, looking away. He did not know why he found this other man who he barely knew as wildly attractive as he did. Yet, he did not really need reasons for the emotions circulating through their connection. Neither of them were shielding from one another and it was with the ease of familiarity learned from their Force link that they slid under the thermal blankets, moving automatically close to one another.

The warm blankets felt incredibly relieving against his sore muscles. Qui-Gon turned on his side, facing Obi-Wan who curled up slightly, obviously just as pleased to be warm again. The younger Jedi was already asleep and Qui-Gon watched him quietly, his own eyelids heavy. He had traveled all over the universe and met a variety of species of great beauty and intelligence, but he had never been drawn to anyone like he was with Obi-Wan. He had never wanted to touch someone else, to lie close to them like this and feel their thoughts and dreams merge with his own.

Sleep pulled at him and Qui-Gon summoned the Force to turn the hydrolight off, the humming noise fading into nothingness. In the dark, the wind and snow drove against their tent but he felt only tranquility as Obi-Wan shifted closer, their torsos bumping, Obi-Wan’s head tucking under his chin, the younger man murmuring something softly in his sleep.

* * *

When Qui-Gon woke, Obi-Wan was already awake and sitting cross-legged on top of their thermal blankets. He was frowning studiously at his datapad, weak sunlight from outside filtering into the tent, offering slight warmth and just enough light to see by. Obi-Wan tapped the surface of his datapad and the hologram schematic of Vhosh Mountain formed between them, washing the tent in a rich blue glow. Qui-Gon sat up, watching as Obi-Wan moved a hand over the hologram, shifting it and refocusing on the halfway point where the second path would take them.

The diagram of the ground was sloped instead of a steep cliffside, Obi-Wan zooming in on the view of where ledges became open space, waterfalls cascading from higher up the mountain, forming pools. Qui-Gon reached out, shifting the view of the hologram to track the path to its eventual end, at the peak of Vhosh Mountain. After the geothermal springs, the path became far more dangerous, narrowing to a mere strip of icy rock and cavernous pits carved out of the ground from where hot water had flooded at one time.

“We’ll have to go back to reach the start of the path,” Obi-Wan said, nodding toward the hologram and brushing his long bangs out of his eyes.

That meant abandoning the path they were on, but the avalanche had already caused so much damage, if K’atou had taken this path than any evidence of his disappearance had likely already been destroyed by the elements. Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan had intuitively felt that the second path was correct and he had learned in the short time they had known one another to trust the younger man’s instincts. He looked through the shimmering blue hologram and nodded. Obi-Wan tapped his datapad and the hologram disappeared, leaving them in the half-light of daybreak.

They each turned toward their separate tasks, Obi-Wan with planning their new route and Qui-Gon with examining what equipment they had left to see if it were possible to rebuild some sort of scanner. Technical supplies were limited but he would not disassemble their lightsabers unless they were stranded with no other option. He quickly inventoried what they did have in their bags, relieved that several of the geological tools packed for their cover identity were not necessary for their mission and could easily be scrapped for hardware. He took out his own datapad and began to reconfigure what he could as Obi-Wan started to pack up the camp. They lost an hour’s traveling time but in the end Qui-Gon had rewired his datapad into a makeshift scanner. It wouldn’t be very powerful and too much information could overload it, but it would have to do.

The snow had stopped outside and they brushed it from the tent edges, Obi-Wan expertly unsnapping guide ropes and taking apart the tent as Qui-Gon shouldered their bags. A cold wind blew steadily, the brief sunlight in the morning quickly obscured by Livost’s near constant cloud cover. Still, the lack of snow made travel much easier and they did not encounter any difficulties in retracing their steps to where the path originated.

Qui-Gon glanced up often from their route, eyes on Obi-Wan’s back, watching the movement of the man’s shoulder for any signs of pain. Obi-Wan’s dark coat stood out against the white mountainside, his fur lined hood pulled up so that his face was obscured as the wind pushed against them. The rest from last night had restored much of their former strength and they made good time, within an hour they had reached the starting point of the path.

Both branched out, studying the route before them. The second path leading to the springs rose at a slight slope up past the third path that was completely obscured in fallen ice. Qui-Gon blinked, brushing his long hair out of his eyes, thinking. There would be more intense climbing later, but the path would not become too treacherous until they drew closer to the hot springs. He looked over at Obi-Wan who met his gaze, eyes bright and intent in the morning light.

They began their journey on the second path, Qui-Gon following Obi-Wan’s lead as the snow beneath them crunched, occasionally slippery with ice. It was a wider path than the one before so the danger of falling off the mountainside was less likely. Still, they were careful, the Force swirling between their minds, not so much thoughts and emotions as just a powerful awareness of one another. Through that connection, Qui-Gon recognized a kind of cold beauty to Livost, the clouds passing over enough that he could glimpse the endless mountains in the distance, the village no longer visible on the brown-gray land far below them.

They walked steadily, following the curve of the mountain, their steps the only noise besides the wind. Fewer boulders had fallen here, a sign that the ground was more stable. It gradually sloped further upward, both of them pausing as they glimpsed their first sight of the thermal springs in the distance. A warm current of air lifted toward them as steam rose from the falls that poured into the hollowed out ground. The snow became slicker, more dangerous to travel on the closer they drew to the springs and Qui-Gon kept one eye on the path, one on Obi-Wan who was traveling the rough ledge with absolute concentration, searching for the best route around the small pool before them.

The younger Jedi studied the hot springs, crouching down to the edge, examining how the steaming water swirled into the deep pit carved out over the years. The waterfall feeding the current of water was disproportionately small but in the distance there were other springs that were much larger, with roaring waterfalls and pools likely too deep to accurately measure. They were no longer at the edge of the mountain, the warmth of the steam surrounding them so that Qui-Gon felt his muscles relax slightly.

He watched Obi-Wan – his husband – Qui-Gon remembered with renewed shock and a warmth separate from that of the steam surrounding them, survey their path, no doubt comparing it to the inadequate data they’d received from the Temple. Gloved fingers gathered a small handful of snow, feeling its wetness, gauging the likelihood of traveling across the pools of water. For now, a path of worn rock curved easily around the springs, but further up ahead the much larger springs would be extremely dangerous to cross. Obi-Wan looked up at him from where he crouched, giving Qui-Gon the same studying look as the land, startling almost when Qui-Gon smiled in return.

They moved quickly around the pools, clothing growing increasingly damp as the warm steam plumed before them. Qui-Gon pushed his hair back from his face, focusing on the path that merged in and out of the mist. Due to erosion, some of the springs were on higher ground than others, curving into what had appeared as ledges on the hologram but in actuality were whole landscapes. In some places water had flowed for centuries before changing course, leaving shallow craters behind. Snow had covered a large portion of the area so that at times they sunk down to their waists in it, only to crawl out in a few minutes and be on solid ground again. Even with these dangers and worse ahead, Qui-Gon had to admit that the falls were a risk worth taking for an experienced climber.

They finally found a place to set up camp on a ledge of rock between two falls. It was far enough from the springs that the spray of hot water would not hit the tent but close enough that the snow covered only a thin layer of ground so that any uneven footing would be easy to discern. The rush of the waterfalls were a comforting steady noise around them, the air humid, even the wind unable to cut through them as before.

Their clothes were wet from the continuous mist of the springs but neither of them moved to change. Obi-Wan paced around the ledge, brow furrowed, his Force presence deep in thought. Qui-Gon reached for his datapad, switching on the improvised scanner. It would not be able to do much more than sweep the area for human remains, but hopefully it would be able to provide enough accurate information to ascertain K’atou’s whereabouts if the man had died on the mountain.

Qui-Gon tilted his head, feeling the moist air dampen his long hair further so that it hung loose and wild down his back. He wondered how many other climbers had lost their lives to get to this point. It was hard to imagine the harsh people he had met in the village seeing such value in the land before them but he could concede that he wasn’t able to consider the Livostens fairly at the moment, not after how they’d behaved toward Obi-Wan and him.

When he turned, he noticed that Obi-Wan had stopped pacing and was watching him. Steam rose heavily from the pools, a gust of wind blowing sharply around them so that Obi-Wan’s hood fell back, his auburn hair ruffling in the breeze. It was strange how in only a short time the sight of the other man filled Qui-Gon with a powerful sensation that encompassed every part of him. They looked across at one another, longing humming through the Force. If they weren’t Jedi, Qui-Gon would easily bridge this distance. He wanted to regardless of the laws separating them.

He could not believe that the Force would be against this, that the Council would forbid their feelings if they knew what was between them. He had never imagined sharing his mind so freely with another, yet there was no fear or hesitance on his part. It felt right to experience this oneness between them, the Force strengthening ever more into a bond.

He knew Obi-Wan could sense it as well, neither of them attempting to stop the flow of thought and emotion flashing through their deepening connection like light on water. And yet, they had the mission to consider and a lifetime of Jedi laws that held them away from one another. Without a word, Obi-Wan began to set up the tent, gloved hands moving with rapid precision. Qui-Gon stepped carefully along the stone path around the nearest hot spring, the spray of the waterfall softly misting over him.

Once their campsite was secured, they concentrated on crossing the springs, Qui-Gon’s scanner focusing on their surroundings, searching for evidence. The smaller pools closer to their tent were warm but would not burn them if they fell from the path, the larger pools with their roaring falls were hot enough that they were both sweating at the waves of heat bending the air around them. It took all their concentration to find a path across.

At times the area was partially covered in water so that they had to leap from one rock to another, the Force assisting them in each movement. Qui-Gon could not fathom how a Force-null individual could possibly follow the same route, but Obi-Wan pointed out bluntly that the Temple had been foolish enough to send them far too close to Livost’s warmer seasons and no Livosten would have likely been idiotic enough to attempt the path when it was warm enough for avalanches to occur on other parts of the mountain.

“With the exception of the Senator,” Qui-Gon remarked, balancing precariously on a small rock ledge and offering Obi-Wan a smile as the younger man frowned a bit, searching his expression as if expecting to be rebuked for his earlier honesty.

After a few seconds the man’s face relaxed and he inclined his head in agreement, leaping to the same rock with effortless grace. This was Obi-Wan’s element, Qui-Gon realized, if not the warmer environment, than crossing these springs, where every step was one part calculated strategy and one part acrobatics. He let Obi-Wan take the lead, unable to quell his admiration for the man’s lean strength from seeping into the Force as Obi-Wan nimbly leapt from one foothold to the other. If he were not concerned about how the Council would react to the feelings between Obi-Wan and him, Qui-Gon would have been looking forward to returning to the Temple for the opportunity to spar with Obi-Wan in the training rooms. He was a skilled duelist but he did not think he could quite match Obi-Wan’s natural agility, it would be curious to see how different – or similar – their ataru fighting styles would be in a sparring match.

They were almost past the thermal springs, the last one taking several tense minutes to cross, the air so hot it was almost volcanic. The Force was a constant hum between the minds as they accessed it continuously to regulate their body temperatures in order to adapt to the oppressive warmth. The ground was bare for several hundred meters away from this side of the falls, the surging water spraying over them – hitting their skin as a thousand stinging pinpricks. They both paused on the last rock from the edge of solid ground. A few meters past the end of the hot springs was a massive pit, the crater worn smooth from centuries of having once been a spring as well.

They exchanged wordless glances, Qui-Gon blinking sweat from his eyes. They leapt to the ground, carefully staying several feet back from the large hole. For now the pit was easily noticeable, but as soon as they were back in the snow they would have no way of knowing what was ground and what was another crater. While the same problem had been an inconvenience earlier, now the holes were so much deeper that falling in one meant an almost certain death.

They moved in different directions, Obi-Wan’s gaze on the ground, looking for any detail out of place. Qui-Gon reached for the Force, letting it guide him as he followed his own tracking instincts, the scanner at his side. A strange eddy of warm and cold air surrounded him while a soft snowfall began to cover parts of the rock before them. Qui-Gon moved carefully, aware that the deeper they went into the snow, the harder it would be to gauge their surroundings. They approached another deep pit carved into rock and slowly traveled the rim of it. Qui-Gon frowned, noticing an even larger pit up ahead. The ground felt firm, but there was no saying how much rock had been hollowed out far below his feet. They were also approaching the edge of the mountain again where the ground would be far less stable due to erosion.

It was quiet on the mountain. He breathed in the thin air slowly, holding the silence within the Force, letting it fill him. In the stillness he heard and felt more than he normally would, Obi-Wan’s footsteps against the snow, the wind tugging at the fabric of their clothes. The rush of water was a loud fullness in the distance, but for now it felt as if Obi-Wan and him were in a different place – the tranquility of the meditations rooms or the soundless vacuum of space.

Emotions filtered through him, some from himself, some from Obi-Wan, the Force connection a glowing entity inside their minds. Qui-Gon did not look over at Obi-Wan, but he could sense the man so clearly, a contradictory mix of happiness and melancholy, peace and intensity, powerful intellect and deep hidden emotion: all of these things were a part of the other man, shaping the Jedi. He wondered how his Force sense appeared to Obi-Wan or if he was something entirely different in the man’s mind, a color perhaps, or an image as opposed to this definable wash of thought and sensation he was continuously experiencing.

They had reached the edge of the large pit, the width of the crater falling into massive rubble where the edge of it had met the mountainside. A fine dusting of snow covered the rocky ground, the air cold against them, their damp clothing chilled by the icy wind rushing around the edge of the mountain.

A mechanical noise suddenly broke the comfortable silence between them, a low steady beeping emitting from Qui-Gon’s makeshift scanner. He met Obi-Wan’s wide eyes, both of their gazes going toward the pit. Carefully, Qui-Gon approached the edge, feeling where the rock was stable. The hole was deep, but even in the falling snow he could make out an odd shape at the bottom. The snow here was bright, stark against the half-covered twisted pile of cloth at the bottom of the hole.

The scanner continued to beep and Qui-Gon frowned. He had no way of knowing whether the human remains at the bottom of the pit were K’atou’s or not. Whoever had died, had likely not suffered, the fall would have been hard enough to kill instantly. Nonetheless, a brief powerful sadness for the loss of a life filled him, even as he turned to the problem of trying to ascertain whom it might be. Any Livosten could have slipped and fallen to their death while climbing the path. Only their skill as Jedi had prevented Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon from meeting that same fate, and were it not for Obi-Wan’s courage and quick thinking, Qui-Gon would have died in the avalanche days ago.

Obi-Wan reached inside his coat pocket, turning on his datapad and typing rapidly. Less than a minute later he silently handed it over to Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow as he saw a long list of data the council would never had had the authority to send in their original mission briefing. A quick glance clarified that he was in possession of a list of every senator’s personal medical file.

“I hope you covered your tracks well when you hacked this,” he remarked, unable to conceal a note of admiration from slipping into his admonishment.

“I’m nothing if not thorough,” Obi-Wan replied with an unexpected mischievous quirk to his lips that made Qui-Gon long to return to that morning on the mountainside before the avalanche when he had kissed Obi-Wan.

Instead he searched for K’atou, watching out of the corner of his eye as Obi-Wan crouched near the edge of the pit, all attention focused now on the remains there. Even if getting in and out of the pit had not been reckless, to touch the bones would disturb possible evidence. They would have to rely on the scanner they had.

Finally, the datapad finished sorting the tens of thousands of senator files, recalculating information until K’atou’s was the only one left. Qui-Gon turned his improvised scanner over and rerouted the information system, syncing K’atou’s medical records to it. The device beeped a few times in protest at the amount of data. Its storage capacity was extremely limited with how much energy it had to expand to operate as a scanner.

Once the sync was completed Qui-Gon turned the scanner mechanism on, knowing he had likely only seconds before it shorted out. Immediately, various alarms sounded as the system he had hastily made started to crash, the information scrolling across the holographic screen distorted, the screen flickering and dying. Still, Qui-Gon had always had a good ear for distinguishing individual noises from cacophony and he caught the confirmation alarm’s high-pitched beep before the entire system crashed. Obi-Wan lifted his head, looking over at him.

“It’s him,” Qui-Gon said quietly and Obi-Wan nodded. The younger Jedi stood from where he had crouched, carefully skirting the edge of the pit, eyes narrowed in thought, his hair ruffling in the cold wind.

“He must have fallen in weeks ago. He should not have taken this path, it’s far too dangerous for someone with no skill in climbing.”

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed as he stared at what was left of K’atou. Qui-Gon had grown used to the man’s somewhat awkward way of phrasing things to know that the words were not said out of malice but confusion. He stepped toward Obi-Wan’s side, stowing the now completely useless scanner in his coat pocket.

“The Livostens must be alerted,” he said, holding out Obi-Wan’s datapad, Obi-Wan inclined his head in agreement, taking the datapad, their gloved fingers briefly touching.

“We should alert the council first. The Livostens will not accept the news from us. It is better that they hear it from the Senate than know that Jedi were involved at all.”

And there it was, the end of their mission. It had not been a complicated assignment, as the Temple had already believed K’atou to have died during his climb. Yet, there was the complexity in what Qui-Gon felt for Obi-Wan, and how the younger man had done everything to save him and looked as if he would do even more. Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan walk a few paces away and contact the Council. He did not bother to listen to what the Temple said in response. Obi-Wan was the mission leader, and as such, the man was obligated to inform the council of the mission’s completion.

He knew Obi-Wan would keep things brief and vague enough even on an encrypted channel to prevent anyone but the Temple knowing that they were ever more than traveling scientists interested in studying the mountain. _Married_ scientists, Qui-Gon had to conclude with a small helpless smile before that too faded, unsure if he would be able to sever the connection between Obi-Wan and him. Already it felt like a physical part of him.

He looked back toward the pit. Despite K’atou’s carelessness as a climber and his inadequacies as a senator, Qui-Gon had to admire the man’s devotion to his people’s traditions. To not take the easy path through the mountainside and to get so far on his own said much about K’atou’s character. Obi-Wan shut off his comlink and returned to Qui-Gon’s side. They stood silently, both looking down into the pit. Death was not feared by a Jedi nor was it a stranger, there was no mourning, only this moment of reflection.

“We should not attempt to move the remains,” Obi-Wan announced quietly, “the Livostens have their own death rituals they will want to adhere to when they are informed about K’atou.”

Qui-Gon nodded, looking over at Obi-Wan. The snowfall had ended a few minutes ago and without thinking he reached out to brush the snow from Obi-Wan’s hair, cupping the man’s unshaven jaw briefly in one large hand. Obi-Wan’s eyes were vividly colored against the white backdrop of snow. They looked steadily at one another, something falling into place. The bond between them was strengthening, he realized as they began their careful way back to their campsite, and Obi-Wan was letting it strengthen, even knowing that their mission was over.

By the time they reached where Obi-Wan had set their tent up, it was late afternoon. They split a pack of protein cubes in silence. Their only conversation over the next hour was Obi-Wan informing him that the council would be sending a ship to pick them up the following day at the same landing pad they’d been dropped off at the start of the mission.

Qui-Gon assembled their things in the tent, knowing that as soon as dawn broke they would need to leave to reach the landing pad on time. He heard Obi-Wan outside the tent, pacing. The Force connection between them was filled with so many unsaid things, half-known between them. Qui-Gon quickly repacked his useless datapad into his bag, keeping his hands moving even as his mind felt perpetually drawn back to that glowing source of light between the younger Jedi and him. It was impossible to know, with everything that had happened, if their mission would be considered a success. They had found K’atou’s body and Obi-Wan had shown incredible skill as the mission leader, but what had happened between them, before the avalanche and after…he did not know what the council would think of the matter.

A splash of water had his hands stilling, his body already in motion. Qui-Gon slid out of the tent, worried that Obi-Wan had fallen into the spring only to pause, staring as Obi-Wan surfaced a few meters away in the water, one hand pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. The steam rising from the springs obscured Obi-Wan briefly, before it cleared, showing the man’s slender naked form in the water. His back was partially facing Qui-Gon, the healing gashes across his right shoulder blade still covered by the waterproof bacta patch. His civilian clothes were neatly folded and set aside at the bank of the spring. Obi-Wan turned his head, looking up at him through the steam, treading water. Qui-Gon felt a powerful emotion, as sudden as if he had been electrocuted.

There was no need to speak, to ask questions or offer explanations. Qui-Gon approached the edge, eyes on Obi-Wan as he slid his boots off and began to undress. Obi-Wan did not look away from him. The bond between them was alight with a sweet tension and a desire that the younger man did not bother to hide, his gaze intent, fearless.

Qui-Gon knelt, shivering at the cold rock beneath his bare feet. The steam enveloped him as he slid into the water. It was warm – almost too hot at first after his body’s adjustment to the cold – but nothing compared to the heated glances they gave one another. Arousal was not something Qui-Gon had ever allowed himself to feel, but he could not control it now, nor did he want to. Obi-Wan swam a few lengths away, his shoulders and upper chest visible in the swirling water. The spray of the waterfall scattered droplets over them both, beading on Obi-Wan’s lashes and his lower lip.

Qui-Gon breathed in the humid air, unable to look away from Obi-Wan who had swam toward the rocky side of the springs, the water shallow enough there that his feet could reach the bottom of the small spring. Qui-Gon looked up, the Livosten sky the same endless gray it had been almost their entire mission. It was still snowing, he noticed, the precipitation melting before it ever reached them. He swam toward Obi-Wan, following the pull of their connection and the light current of the water.

His feet scraped against the smooth rock of the bottom of the thermal spring and Qui-Gon moved toward Obi-Wan until he stood in front of the man, water lapping at his ribs, his gaze on the other Jedi. It was foolish to pretend they both didn’t feel the pulse of desire between them, or the devotion and admiration and almost desperate need to protect the other. It was all of these things, it was more than even that.

Obi-Wan stared up at him, his expression suddenly solemn, “I shouldn’t have changed the information on our identification,” he stated, speaking in that abrupt way he sometimes had, “I didn’t think how the Council would respond, I didn’t even ask you –“ he broke off, clearly conflicted. The sensations between them were sharp emotions in the bond, winding tightly like a spool of thread, and Qui-Gon swallowed, unsure what he would do if that thread were to break.

“You saved my life, how can I be angry with you for that?” he murmured, trying to soothe Obi-Wan with his voice and the affection he let flow freely into their bond.

Obi-Wan took a small breath, his expression filled with the longing burning within their Force connection. They _were_ legally married, Qui-Gon thought, still too dazed at the idea to really decipher it. Obi-Wan was his husband now. He didn’t know what this would mean once the mission was over, if the Temple would find out or if they already knew about the change in their records. Perhaps it would remain a secret, even between Obi-Wan and him.

Water swirled around their naked bodies, steam encasing the air. Moisture settled in their lungs and skin as Qui-Gon breathed in the warmth, feeling Obi-Wan’s turmoil as if it were his own. The smaller Jedi glanced away, auburn hair dampened to a brown, his greenish eyes bright.

“I didn’t marry you just to save your life, I never intended to break the Code,” Obi-Wan spoke, his low voice quiet. He raised his head, meeting Qui-Gon’s gaze with emotion so powerful it was almost despair. “I don’t know how to say this. I never know how to say things so they sound right, but I love you. Everything about you,” he whispered helplessly, “and I don’t know if I can just let go of all of this.”

Qui-Gon tilted his head, wet tendrils of his hair clinging to both of them as they stood close in the heated water. He reached out, holding Obi-Wan’s face very gently in his hands, thumbs brushing over sharp cheekbones as he looked deep into the man’s eyes.

“Then don’t,” he replied softly before leaning down and taking Obi-Wan’s mouth with his own.

The younger Jedi made a small startled noise before kissing him back with a passion that sent pleasure rushing through Qui-Gon’s entire torso. The terrible indecision of earlier melted away and all Qui-Gon knew was Obi-Wan’s mouth open beneath his, the younger man deepening the kiss, his hands gripping at Qui-Gon’s strong shoulders as their bodies met underwater.

They broke apart, gasping, water beading on their skin from the steam twining around them. Obi-Wan looked up at him once more, watching Qui-Gon with that same intent focus that he had had at their very first meeting. The bond was a river of light between them – both of them knowing intimately that no matter what happened afterward, they would have this moment.

Obi-Wan blinked against the spray of the waterfall, licking water from his lower lip absently, the motion shocking Qui-Gon with how unintentionally arousing it was. He pulled the smaller Jedi to him, kissing the man with sudden desperation, his tongue exploring Obi-Wan’s mouth, his hands in the man’s short wet hair. Obi-Wan’s touch was firm in return, his expression so serious, aflame with need so that Qui-Gon gasped into the man’s mouth as Obi-Wan pressed against him, one hand splayed across Qui-Gon’s ribs, sliding underwater to the older man’s waist and aligning their bodies closer.

It was strange that he had forgotten that Obi-Wan was so much shorter than him and now he was very aware of their differences in height, of the way his breath ruffled the man’s hair where it stuck up at the back of the scalp, and the way Obi-Wan’s slim build felt supple and light in his arms. They clung to one another, skin slick and flushed in the hot water.

The warmth of the springs made the snow around them all the more surreal when they climbed the low bank unto solid ground. The air was heated enough that Qui-Gon did not feel cold, even naked and soaked. They stared at one another, their gazes direct, desire flooding through them. Slowly, they took in each scar, each mark that made them who they were. Very light bruising still showed along Qui-Gon’s strong torso, Obi-Wan had an old faded burn near his elbow and his hands were tender from being scraped by ice during the avalanche. The almost-invisible freckles along his shoulders and across the bridge of his nose were somehow more apparent in the starkness of their surroundings. Steam billowed around them and Obi-Wan reached for his hand, damp fingers sliding against one another.

The man’s thick short hair was wet, long bangs dripping across his brow, his gaze powerful – almost fierce in its intensity. He looked suddenly exactly how he had on the mountainside that early morning when they had first kissed. Qui-Gon drew in a shaky breath, overwhelmingly aware that he was seeing a part of Obi-Wan that had always been tightly restrained, the vulnerability and passion that he had witnessed in their earliest moments now fully exposed to him.

They did not speak as they entered the tent, it was more shadowed than the outside and Qui-Gon blinked, letting his eyes adjust as he knelt in the middle of the tiny area. Obi-Wan tilted his head, water dampening the floor around them. Qui-Gon reached out, touching Obi-Wan’s face, then his throat, fingers trailing down to rest on the man’s chest, feeling Obi-Wan’s heartbeat vibrate beneath his fingertips. The younger man gave a small smile and Qui-Gon leaned down to kiss him.

The man’s mouth parted for him, arms surrounding him, the clean scent of Obi-Wan easing into his lungs. There was a strength to Obi-Wan’s slender frame, a certain beauty that Qui-Gon felt an impossible desire to hold on to. He retreated enough to look into the man’s face, his body shivering with longing as the smaller Jedi tightened his hold, bringing Qui-Gon with him to the floor of the tent.

He pulled Obi-Wan close so that there was no distance between them. The light outside filtered through the tent, damp skin next to one another, Obi-Wan’s eyes were wide in the dark, his longing flooding their connection. Qui-Gon kissed him deeply, large hands sliding down that smooth back and over the man’s thighs.

This was what it meant to be in love, he realized, this endless joy of being so close to Obi-Wan, this fear of losing each other and what they had. He kissed Obi-Wan’s neck, his beard brushing against Obi-Wan’s throat, his fingers tracing over Obi-Wan’s lower abdomen. He lifted his head to look at the other Jedi who stared back at him steadily. The wet warmth of the springs remained with them in the small tent, moisture clinging to the tent walls and their skin, sliding down to puddle on the floor.

The Force connection between them flooded with emotion after emotion and Qui-Gon inhaled shakily, aware of just how wanted this was for both of them. He pressed his mouth to the junction between neck and shoulder, licking the water gathered there, hearing Obi-Wan gasp loudly as he slid his hand from the man’s stomach to his pelvis. It should have felt strange to touch someone so intimately but it did not, he felt only the need to touch more, to know every part of Obi-Wan. The younger man wrapped arms shakily around Qui-Gon’s waist, holding tightly, his breathing loud and unsteady, soft almost-noises leaving his lips. His hips pushed into each movement and Qui-Gon stroked him with gentle firmness, in awe of Obi-Wan’s masculine beauty and the pleasure that the man was shyly learning to express.

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan whispered, his voice low, warm in a way that Qui-Gon had never heard it before.

Qui-Gon lifted his head, meeting the man’s eyes. They looked at one another, saying everything by saying nothing. Obi-Wan reached up, fingers sliding into Qui-Gon’s long hair, gripping it lightly. And then he surged forward, kissing Qui-Gon with sudden passion, their wet bodies pressing so close that Qui-Gon felt a shock of pleasure resound through their bond. His mouth opened to Obi-Wan’s, his hands coming to hold Obi-Wan’s hips, caressing the man’s body all over, firm along the planes of slender muscle, gentling when he came near the injury left by the vrakray.

Obi-Wan was trembling, water dripping from him unto Qui-Gon as they shifted unto their sides. Qui-Gon did not have time to formulate thought as Obi-Wan’s mouth left his, trailing eagerly down Qui-Gon’s neck, than chest. Their skin slid slick against one another, Obi-Wan’s tongue catching water droplets across Qui-Gon’s stomach, shocking him at the eroticism of it all. And then Obi-Wan slipped further down and without hesitation took the tip of Qui-Gon’s erection into his mouth.

Joy struck him with the same power of the avalanche all those days ago, shocking the breath from him. Without conscious knowledge his hand went to the back of Obi-Wan’s scalp, stroking the man’s hair and trying not to thrust too hard as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him. There was no shyness on Obi-Wan’s part anymore. The heat from the springs was nothing like this and Qui-Gon moaned, shaking and still quite unable to believe that it was possible to feel so much for one person.

One of Obi-Wan’s forearms braced Qui-Gon’s hips from moving too quickly, the other hand gripped the older man’s thigh and Qui-Gon pressed his own hand atop Obi-Wan’s, feeling the connection of them both through the meeting of their bodies. It was hard to think, to know anything but this moment and the moment that followed, the way Obi-Wan’s mouth moved on him, the assertiveness there as sensual as the physical sensation of being so thoroughly pleasured.

They shook when apart and Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan up, embracing the man, their lower limbs tangling, pelvises colliding softly, still very much aroused. He breathed heavily against Obi-Wan’s wet hair, hands slipping on the man’s skin.

“I – can we –“ he paused, too overwhelmed to know how to phrase the almost desperate need inside their bond into words, recognizing fully how it must be for Obi-Wan to not know how to speak about the things that the deepest parts of him longed for.

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan press against him, looking up at him with complete understanding. The man’s body was warm and damp against his own, the shock of their skin touching causing them both to shudder as Obi-Wan slid a strong thigh up over Qui-Gon’s hip, turning so that Qui-Gon automatically did as well, Obi-Wan lying underneath him now.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said simply.

Water had settled into the crevices of their bodies, pooling along the edge of Obi-Wan’s collarbone, the hollow of his upper hipbones, it dripped from Qui-Gon onto Obi-Wan as he knelt on the floor between the younger man’s thighs. Their bag of supplies was close enough that he could fumble for it in the shadows and find the salve from earlier. He kissed Obi-Wan deeply and heard the smaller man gasp into his mouth, the bond between them brighter than ever.

He framed Obi-Wan’s face in his hands once more, looking into those handsome features that looked back at him steadily. Never could he have imagined loving someone as he did this man who had unburied him from an avalanche, carried him down a mountain, and married him without hesitation. Carefully, he brushed the longer strands of Obi-Wan’s hair away from the man’s face, thumb resting briefly against the small mole beneath Obi-Wan’s eye before leaning down to kiss that as well.

There was no need for words, Obi-Wan watching him unblinkingly as Qui-Gon uncapped the salve and gently parted Obi-Wan’s legs further. They kissed softly again, droplets of water dripping from Qui-Gon’s hair unto Obi-Wan’s upper body, causing the younger man to smile slightly before gasping and tensing automatically at Qui-Gon’s first tentative exploration of him. Almost instantly, he relaxed into the sensation, and Qui-Gon carefully moved his finger deeper. He did not know quite what to do, Jedi were taught very little of sex beyond reproductive means and never had Qui-Gon considered forsaking the Code to have what would likely be a quick and meaningless encounter with someone. But this need for intimacy, this desire to hold Obi-Wan and caress him and feel him move against him was different than what he’d ever imagined it could be.

Obi-Wan made a low noise, hips rising instinctively into the sensation of being penetrated, his green eyes bright with desire in the dim light. Qui-Gon shifted his larger body protectively over Obi-Wan, unable to take his eyes away from the clear pleasure in the other Jedi’s face and the way Obi-Wan’s pelvis arched as he slicked another finger and slid that gently into the man’s tight entrance as well.

Breathless moments passed, Obi-Wan pushing into the movement, his gasps heavy. Qui-Gon prepared the man very slowly, the tent warm and wet as Obi-Wan arched suddenly with a soft startled cry when Qui-Gon’s fingers brushed against a sensitive area inside the man. There was no more waiting. Obi-Wan reached for him, mouth set with resolve. Qui-Gon eased his fingers out, kissing the man and moaning at Obi-Wan’s passionate response. He turned the smaller Jedi by the hips, Obi-Wan moving with effortless agility to partially rise to his hands and knees so that the taller man’s stomach pressed to Obi-Wan’s spine. Qui-Gon kissed the side of Obi-Wan’s neck, part of him enraptured at the other man’s seductiveness and another part of him filled with that same overwhelming compassion from earlier as he made sure to not brush against Obi-Wan’s injured shoulder.

He stroked Obi-Wan’s wet hair, moving fully over Obi-Wan in order to lick at the droplets of water that slid from the ends of Obi-Wan’s hair down the back of the man’s warm neck. Obi-Wan groaned softly, pushing back against him, and Qui-Gon inhaled sharply, bracing a hand above Obi-Wan’s head, and shifting to align their bodies.

The bond surged with want – almost animal in its intensity. He had taken time to prepare Obi-Wan, but even so it was difficult to enter the man. Neither of them had any previous sexual experience and he knew he was larger than what could be comfortable at first for the other Jedi. Yet, as soon as their bodies met, all worry fled him, their Force connection enfolding them. He pressed into Obi-Wan, holding the man close as Obi-Wan cried out, eyes shutting, his whole body shuddering with pleasure. Qui-Gon kissed the man’s left shoulder, trying to move gently even as every part of him blazed with desire.

Water slipped from them unto the floor, their wet skin sliding together as Obi-Wan cried out once more and Qui-Gon pulled him closer, unable to speak with how beautiful it all was. The air was thick with steam, with their soft sounds as he moved deeper within Obi-Wan. Wind flexed the tent walls lightly, the sounds of the falls distant to them both. Qui-Gon panted, kissing along Obi-Wan’s neck, licking water off the man’s skin. One hand stroked up Obi-Wan’s ribs, resting over the chest, feeling the vibration of his own thrusts throughout the younger man’s body and the low moans that left Obi-Wan’s lungs.

It was powerful, almost too much. The shock of being so close, of feeling so much was more than Qui-Gon could fully comprehend. He felt the firm wetness of Obi-Wan underneath him, the man’s legs parting further for him, their hips rocking together. They knelt on the slick tent floor his own body encased in heat, sheathed into tightness, ecstasy taking him apart so that all that mattered was Obi-Wan’s presence in the bond and in his arms.

He was careful not to put his full weight on Obi-Wan who arched under him, the rhythm of their bodies becoming fast, urgent, as the spiraling sensation of pleasure intensified. He pressed deeper, Obi-Wan’s hands tangling suddenly with his own, both of them tensing as he hit that sensitive area inside Obi-Wan once more and the resulting joy was more than either of them could know.

Afterward, they lie trembling, the tent dark from where the sun had set without their awareness. Obi-Wan’s head was on his shoulder, their naked bodies warm and lax. Qui-Gon stroked a hand through Obi-Wan’s thick unruly hair, every part of him feeling almost overwhelming alive at the pleasure still whirling inside him. Obi-Wan turned his face up toward him, kissing him softly, murmuring something so quietly that Qui-Gon almost didn’t hear him, but he did and he would not pretend that he hadn’t. He lay a hand on the man’s side, feeling where Obi-Wan’s ribs still heaved for breath, and whispered his answer.

* * *

They left before full light, the warmth of the springs disappearing into the incessant cold of Vhosh Mountain. An icy wind dug at them, snow blowing against their dark clothing, clinging to their hair. Yet even the dangers of crossing unstable parts of the mountain did not disrupt their contentment. Often their hands brushed one another, often Qui-Gon saw the glimpse of a smile on Obi-Wan’s serious face. The harsh colorless world of Livost no longer cut into him as it once did. Now all he saw was Obi-Wan’s auburn hair against the white snow, his green-blue eyes against the gray sky.

They stopped only once that day, pausing before the climb down the sheer side of the mountain, a climb that held memories both good and bad. Qui-Gon studied the area, looking for footholds down, amazed all over again that Obi-Wan had carried his unconscious body down such a steep incline. He looked over at Obi-Wan who caught his eye, the man frowning in thought. Qui-Gon looked away, refocusing on the cliff wall, only to be surprised when Obi-Wan suddenly stepped close to him, taking Qui-Gon’s arm and turning the man to kiss him. It was long, open-mouthed, and purposeful, Obi-Wan not moving away when they parted for breath. It seemed he was trying to tell Qui-Gon something, but everything they needed to say was there in the bond, radiant between their minds.

There was no sign of the vrakray when they reached the end of the long climb down the mountain, the reason why easily discernable as the jagged shape of a small ship sat starkly visible on the distant landing pad east of the village. Its engines were running as they approached the vessel, the hull battered but still serviceable. The landing pad vibrated beneath the soles of their boots, the noise overwhelmingly loud after so much silence. Obi-Wan tilted his head up toward the ship, sweeping his eyes over it in that quick studious glance that Qui-Gon was inordinately fond of.

He followed Obi-Wan’s steps, refusing to look toward the village of VHOSH/ay in the distance. He would not think of the Livostens’ cruelty and intolerance, nor the arbitrary violence of the avalanche and the vrakray when he thought of this mission in the years to come. He would settle himself in the memories of Obi-Wan standing in a forest with birds singing, that first kiss as the sun rose on the mountain, and the warmth of holding the man close at night.

The landing ramp extended slowly and Obi-Wan paused at the foot of the ramp, turning to give Qui-Gon a long searching look, his gaze unexpectedly soft. The bond brightened between them – vivid and unending. Qui-Gon tenderly looked back at him, unwilling to ever look away again. Obi-Wan tilted his head in a small nod and turned, walking up the landing ramp.

Qui-Gon paused at the edge of the ramp, warmth from inside the ship washing over him. He thought of what Obi-Wan had whispered to him back in the tent after they had made love, the vulnerability in Obi-Wan’s eyes and the love there that was so much a part of him, of both of them. “Please stay,” Obi-Wan had said and Qui-Gon had known instantly then the forever that was implied in the man’s words, just as he had known his own response.

“Yes,” he had said, without hesitation, “I’ll stay.”

_The end_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after as Jedi Husbands, uncaring of Temple disapproval. <3
> 
> I think it is usually common for a character to be very conflicted when waking up to find out that they are now married, but I really liked the idea of Qui-Gon not being too bothered by it all. In true Qui-Gon fashion it’s probably not even the strangest thing that he’s done. Also, he’s married to OBI-WAN KENOBI, so really what could be better? 
> 
> And yes, I had the idea from the very beginning outline that they would make out in a hot spring and have sex soaking wet. You’re welcome.
> 
> For those of you who had wondered about K’atou, I toyed with the idea of him being stranded somewhere and them finding him, but realistically it didn’t make sense for him to have survived until then and plot-wise it isn’t necessary for him to be alive. I’m sorry though, if his death surprised or upset anyone. 
> 
> Believe it or not, this fic idea was in the works for a long time and something I had considered entering for the first Jinnobi Challenge but life kept interrupting so it wasn’t ready for submission until this year’s challenge. I’m really happy to have been able to share it with the qui/obi fandom and I’m so looking forward to seeing what everyone else has done for the 2019 Jinnobi Challenge!


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